Don't Always Love the Running
by thisdayandage
Summary: "He saves worlds, rescues civilizations, defeats terrible creatures and runs a lot. Seriously, there's an outrageous amount of running involved". When Running has its downfalls. Basically, some more Doctor!Whump
1. Keep Your Mouth Shut!

"Donna, run!" yelled The Doctor.

Donna ran. She ran as fast as she could, but was still no match for The Doctor, who was very much ahead of her.

All around them was the smell of mud and exotic plants. Roots and vines stuck out from all directions. These posed as obstacles for the Time Lord and his human companion in their goal of reaching the TARDIS, before a large reptilian creature catches up with them and promptly devours them without a moment's hesitation.

The beast had been enjoying a deep slumber inside its cave, when it had been rudely disrupted by these two travellers. This had left it in a state of incredible anger and it was also very hungry.

There was only so much adrenaline Donna's body could produce and soon her breath was beginning to catch. She glanced behind her to check how close the creature was on their tail, when she fell to the ground with a thud. She had tripped over a rock.  
>The Doctor heard the sound and called out to his companion. "Donna! Are you alri-"<p>

Donna pulled her face out of the mud and wrinkled her nose.

"Eurgh. Yuck. That's just what I needed. An all-natural face mask made of smelly alien mud."  
>Pushing herself up to a standing position, she smoothed down her coat, brushing off a fraction of the filth and then wiped her hands on the enormous leaf of a nearby plant.<br>"Doctor, you'd better take me to the best outer space dry-cleaners next," she groaned at him. "Doctor?"  
>The Doctor didn't answer. Instead, he was crouching, with his hands over his throat, making rasping choking sounds, and then gagging as if he might throw up. "Oh my god. Doctor, are you okay? What's happened?" Donna exclaimed. The Doctor's face had paled. He was staring directly behind Donna and lifted his index finger, pointing.<p>

Donna stood very still. Like a statue. She imagined she was one of the surrounding trees, trying to blend in with the jungle and be camouflaged. Another smell began to overwhelm her. The foul stench of hot breath was being puffed out by the very beast they had encountered moments ago.

Brushing past her, it stepped towards The Doctor and leaned down, its head almost as big as Donna. With a vicious snarl it bared its long fangs, tinged with brown and dripping with sticky saliva. Two nostrils flared in The Doctor's face, taking in his scent.  
>It was then, that an odd thing happened. The creature shut its mouth. A sort of whimpering sound came from it and it turned around and scarpered into the distance.<p>

When she was sure it was safe to move. Donna knelt down next to The Doctor, no longer caring about the mud getting on her clothes. Placing a hand on his arm, she held eye contact with him.  
>"Are you okay?" she repeated. The Doctor nodded and stood up.<p>

"I swallowed a fly," he admitted. Donna's face made a small round shape, resembling a smirk.

"Ooh," she said "That'll teach you, Spaceman, for running so fast with that big mouth of yours wide open."  
>The Doctor placed his hands in his coat pockets and frowned, looking Donna up and down.<p>

"Come on," he ushered. "Let's get back to the TARDIS and find you some clean clothes."  
>Unable to turn this offer down, Donna walked with The Doctor back to the TARDIS, but not before making one joke at The Doctor's expense.<p>

"There was an old Time Lord who swallowed a fly," she sang. "I don't know why he swallowed a fly. Perhaps he'll die."


	2. Fine?

As soon as they stepped through the TARDIS doors, Donna made immediately for the shower. She relished the feeling of hot water hitting her aching muscles and the steam refreshing her.  
>After the incredibly long wash, she slipped into a purple dress top, black waist belt, jeans and black boots. She felt rejuvenated and ready for another trip with her best friend.<br>_Perhaps somewhere a bit more relaxing this time_, she mused. _Ah, but relaxing and The Doctor never seemed to come hand in hand. Oh well, at least somewhere that they would not be chased by angry alien creatures might be possible_.

She walked into the console room, still thinking longingly of a sunny beach somewhere and dipping her feet in the water of a resort planet.

"Doctor," Donna exclaimed when she saw the skinny Time Lord facing towards his console. "Not that running for our lives, from enormous things that want to eat us isn't incredibly fun and all.. But you don't suppose we could take a trip somewhere a bit less mucky and a bit more, well, lovely?"

"Er, yes. Fine," came The Doctor's reply. He turned a few knobs and The TARDIS shook for a bit, then halted. The Doctor pointed a finger to the doors. "Go on. I'll be right behind you."

Donna glanced at him. Did her friend seem rather tired? She put the matter to the back of her mind for now and exited the TARDIS, excited to find out what kind of place was in store for them this time.

A wave of noise hit Donna as she emerged from the TARDIS. She was amongst the hustle and bustle of a busy city environment. There were noises of people chatting and shouting, vehicles screeching and tooting. Then there was the enormous skyscrapers towering above her.

Immediately, she thought that The Doctor had finally taken them to New York, until a plump blue woman quickly brushed past her, which confirmed that she was definitely somewhere a tad more galactic.  
>It was then that a hand clutched Donna's shoulder. Startled, she jumped slightly and spun round.<p>

"Oh, it's you Spaceman. What did you think you were doing, sneaking up behind me like that? Do you want to give me a heart attack or something?"

"Sorry," muttered The Doctor. Dipping a hand into his jacket pocket, he pulled out his sonic screwdriver and a flat square bit of plastic. "Look. I imagine you want to do a bit of shopping. Here," he preceded to sonic the plastic square. "Unlimited credit", he explained, handing the square to Donna. "Go wild." The Doctor was grinning.

"Don't look so smug with yourself Alien Boy. What are you going to do then? Surely you aren't going to follow me around all day?" Donna questioned, suspicious. Reaching a hand up and behind his neck, scratching, The Doctor provided his excuse.

"Well, actually I thought I might just stick round the TARDIS for a bit. You know, do a bit of tinkering with the heating and that."

Donna considered this for a moment. Often, the skinny alien talked about fixing the heating, but never seemed to actually do it - being far too easily distracted. However, she chose to instead, not voice this accusation. He had just given her permission to go for a shopping spree after all.

"Alright, whatever you want. See you later then."

"Later," agreed The Doctor. He gave a small nod.

And so, companion and Time Lord departed their separate ways. The Doctor made his way steadily into the TARDIS, walking past the Console and into the depths of his ship. Donna made hastily for the city shops, with the matter that The Doctor didn't quite seem his usual self still pressing at the back of her mind.


	3. Not So Fine

Thick beads of sweat rolled down The Doctor's face, as he heaved a loud breath and took another painful step. Two wobbling legs barely kept the already hunched over Doctor upright enough. Like a python constricting until it had suffocated its meal, he kept his arms wrapped tightly around his own abdomen, thinking that compressing himself would somehow supress the distressing affliction within.

Staggering into the blindingly white med bay, he reached out a long arm and switched on a machine, knocking several test tubes, syringes and other pieces of equipment over in his effort, before collapsing to the floor. Sharp and intense pain shot through him and he flung his head back and grimaced until it subdued.  
>Once the previously activated machine had emitted a high-pitched beep, he painstakingly wrenched himself back up to a near-standing position, supporting himself by clutching to the frame of the machinery so tightly his knuckles turned bone white, and each vein stuck out mercilessly across his slender hands, all to gaze at the screen's readout. His theory was confirmed, when he saw the image of his internal body flash up. There, shown up in red and nestled in his intestine, was a life-form. And it was growing.<p>

When running on Indigifall Six, he hadn't merely swallowed a blow fly as he'd first thought. No, that would have been much too simple. It always had to end up getting complicated and deadly when it came to him, didn't it?  
>As far as The Doctor could guess, the foreign body was a parasitical creature of some kind. That was why the vengeful beast, which had pursued them back in that jungle hadn't tried to eat them after all. It probably could smell the parasite festering inside him, figured that its prey would be toxic and not wanting to stick around much longer, ran for its life.<br>It had been just another slice of The Doctor's persistent bad luck that he had been randomly selected as the parasitical host. He couldn't be sure what kind of nutriment the organism could possibly be seeking within him, but he doubted that it could be finding exactly what it was hungering for. However, this was not about to stop it from trying its best to devour whatever life force it was currently able to latch onto for the time being.

The Doctor admitted to himself that he had been feeling continually odd since the incident, but didn't want to alarm Donna. When the pain started he decided to distract Donna until he found out what was wrong. He didn't like to cause a fuss. Now he wished she was here with him. It wasn't as if his companion would probably be able to do anything. But, just having the comfort of her being there, perhaps holding his hand and brushing back his fringe, whispering calming words to him, would put him at some ease. Why had he sent her off? He made himself angry, which only added to his current torment. He didn't have a clue about what he was going to do now. His only option was to hope that the parasite would pass naturally due to his unique Time Lord physiology.

The Doctor's eyes were wide with pain and he keeled over once more, teeth gritted tight and his entire body shivering and thrashing out of the deeply wracking and intensifying pain.  
>When he thought it began to subside he had no time to relax, before nausea hit him like a crashing train and he was vomiting up hot acidic bile all over the clean white floor of the med bay.<br>_Donna_, he thought. _Donna, I need you_. All of a sudden the combination of physical exhaustion and pain became too difficult for the Time Lord to manage and he passed out.


	4. Shoes to Die for

_Those shoes_, Donna thought. _I need those shoes!_

It was difficult to place exactly what colour they were. Not red, not purple, not green, or black, or anything. These shoes shone and glistened in a whole new colour, which she had never witnessed in all her life, or even travels with The Doctor.  
>They were lined in a material similar to silk, with golden embroidered swirls tracing strongly around the edges and then meandering intricately throughout the rest of the shoe in patterns so tiny and fine it was if only someone with the hands the size of a pixie could have possibly done all of the stitching.<br>The toes pulled up in a curl, reminding Donna of shoes that belonged to some sort of Arabian princess.

For some time, she stood, gaping, at the shop window display, before reminding herself that she could spend as much money as she pleased.  
>Snapping her fingers, she signalled for the Automated and Mechanical Personal Shopping Assistant she had hired to follow her, as it lugged a wagon full of ridiculously priced and already purchased items behind it<br>The woman from Earth raced into the store to try on her most newly discovered desire.

The pair looked just as gorgeous on her feet as she had imagined they would, when she first set eyes upon them. Not only that, but they were also incredibly comfortable and fitted perfectly to her, as if they had been specifically custom made for her very two feet. Walking around in them was the comfiest experience she had ever felt, like walking on a cloud.

I'll take them!" Donna gleefully exclaimed to the shopping assistant with her hands splayed out excitedly, then produced the cyber credit card from her pocket. The assistant took the card from her.

"Declined," barked the machine.

"Excuse me?" cried Donna, flabbergasted.

"Credit limit exceeded," it said.

"But I had unlimited credit. The Doctor told me so," argued Donna, growing impatient now.

"Credit limit exceeded," it then repeated.

"I can't believe this! That out of space dunce couldn't even credit a card properly. Did he honestly expect me to exceed whatever limit he placed on this?" she said, grabbing the card back and shoving it grudgingly back into her pocket.

A slightly wayward thought entered the human woman's mind and her face twisted into the most fiendishly cheeky grin, with squinted eyes and pursed lips. "Okay robot thing. I guess I will have well, erm.. just go put them back then."

Slowly, Donna pulled each shoe off and held them in her hands, walking barefoot back over to the window at the shop's entrance. Without so much as a glance back behind her, Donna made a run for it.

Making her way down the city street, she definitely was attracting a massive amount of attention. Alarms were being set off and people were yelling. Not only that though, but people could not stop staring at her shoes. People pointed at them exclaiming loud compliments and saying that they had always wished for such a pair of shoes like those.  
>Donna could not help but feel a sense of pride on top of the adrenaline rush. She could not recall ever having felt so wildly alive.<p>

Ahead, she could see that oh so familiar blue box and it screamed sanctuary. There was quite a crowd of people chasing her now, of both authority and the public, right on her tail. Reaching out she put a hand on the wooden door, but was only able to push it slightly ajar, when a hand grabbed Donna by the material of her clothes and pulled her back.

Donna was placed in hand cuffs, the shoes were snatched from her grip and she was being led away from The Doctor's ship and towards custody.


	5. Grin and Bear It

**[A/N: Just a Warning. This chapter probably isn't for the squeamish or fainthearted. So, I'm putting the rating up. Its the longest chapter yet for this particular fic too. If you choose to continue reading, please let me know what you think.]**

Being dragged so painfully back into consciousness was a terrifying experience. The Doctor intentionally bit down hard on his bottom lip, in an attempt to distract himself from the searing pain he felt elsewhere, until he could taste the thick drops of blood which had extruded and now filled his mouth, mixing with the already evident taste of sick.

Vision was difficult and kept clouding into fog, threatening to turn dark again, but The Doctor fought for his consciousness this time. Nobody was coming for him. He had accepted this and the fact that he would have to take matters into his own hands.

Still scattered across the floor were the exact things he would need. Was it luck? The Doctor could hardly count himself lucky right now. It was unlikely that all of the items were sterile, but right now that did not matter and Time Lords are usually not prone to infection.

First, he grabbed for the tourniquet and strapped it tightly around his upper arm, pulling it tight with his teeth. Finding a syringe and the correct solution, he filled it and tapped the needle expertly with his fingers, inspecting for any air bubbles.

After giving his inner elbow a good few slaps, The Doctor placed the needle at the protruding vein, depressed the plunger and ripped off the tourniquet. Relief wash over him almost immediately. At least the edge of the pain had been taken off. However, that was the easy part. He knew that it was only about to get so much worse.

In order to have good visuals of what he was about to do, he positioned a small swivelling mirror above him. Fumbling with the buttons on his jacket he attempted to get it open, but his hands were trembling so much. With a pair of shears he reluctantly cut straight through the material of both jacket and undershirt.

The only sounds were his heavy breathing next to the chilling silence that filled the rest of the room. His freshly gloved hands were still shaking when he held the scalpel to his bare abdomen. Holding one hand tightly over the one wielding the medical instrument, he struggled to stay focussed and steady his hand, but this only made him shake more.

How had he gotten himself into such a dilemma, that he was trying to come to terms with that fact he had to operate on his own person? A small chuckle escaped from his throat, catching himself off guard.

Thinking longingly of the days when he travelled with a medical student, he remembered Martha. She could have dealt with this. She had dealt incredibly well when he had become inhabited by that sun entity and had to be frozen to a dramatic level.  
>Now something quite different was wreaking havoc inside of him. Yet, he knew Martha would have stayed calm and stuck to her training, sorting the matter out quickly and efficiently.<p>

Martha was a strong young woman, with some sorts of bravery that perhaps The Doctor would never have himself. He would be strong though, like Martha. With all his determination, he pressed down with the scalpel and grimaced as he moved it along, making a clean incision.

Although he had used his best efforts to try and relax, his muscles had tightened reflexively anyway, making the process all the more unbearable. There was not as much blood as there might be for a human, yet some still trickled out

Although feeling far from ready, he tried to disassociate himself with his own lower half, by pretending it was someone else's. How could he possibly bear the thought of being inside his own abdomen? This was truly barbaric. Pressed for time, he stopped himself from questioning the absurdity of the situation. This thing was still growing inside of him after all.

With a clamp he held the wound open and took a deep breath before going in to look for the parasite. The smell of blood and intestines was almost over whelming, but he forced himself to simply grin and bear it.

Placing a set of forceps into the now gaping hole, he tried to feel around where the parasite had been on the scan. It was no longer there. It must have moved. _Darn it!_ The Doctor groaned loudly, the pain threatening to overwhelm him. Teeth clenched, he ditched the instrument all together and went in with his gloved finger, feeling around. He caught hold of something squishy and dark, but like a bar of soap it slipped from his grasp and shot at an alarming speed through his intestine.

The Doctor's whole body lurched, his back going up in an arch and his head pulled back. Burning pain coursed through his entirety, causing his vision to turn white for a moment. His chest was rising and falling with rapid breath at an alarming rate and his hearts beat so fast he felt as if they might just burst from his chest.

The pain engulfed him, a raging ball of white light and he was deep at the centre of it. He had no choice, but to ride this unyielding agony out through the rest of the surgery. His teeth gnashed together roughly and repetitively, accidently biting down on his own tongue, filling his mouth with fresh warm blood.

Somehow, The Doctor told his arm to tell his hand, to tell his fingers to pick up the scalpel. He would have to make another incision, further up and try again. Tears were streaming from his eyes now.

It helped ever so slightly to imagine he was not in his body. He was an observer, from above. He focussed on the colours around him. There was the sterile white of the med bay, the pale blue of the ripped shirt and the brown pinstripes of his ruined suit, glinting silver of the surgical instruments, the red of his blood. _Oh Rassilon, the red!_ The red had seeped well over his stomach region, into the clothes, over the floor and his hands were thoroughly spattered with it.

Grabbing a few wipes he tried to mop up some of it in order to see where he was about to cut next.  
>The second incision was even harder, but he did it and clamped it open again. Now there was just more blood. He was quite thoroughly caked in it now. The Doctor felt light-headed.<p>

"I can't do it", he breathed, dropping the scalpel to the floor with a clatter.


	6. Comrade

**[A/N: Alright, this chapter is once again, even longer than the last (I'm beginning to see a pattern here)**

**Personally I'm not sure how keen I am on Donna's half of the story now. After all, this fic is really just an excuse for whumping on The Doctor. But its how I chose to write it, so I'm pretty much stuck with it now.**

**Their paths are about to cross though and it shouldn't be so split up. It is enjoyable though, to switch between The Doctor's dire and painful situation and Donna's mundane shoplifting exploits.**

**What are my reader's opinions of the way I have laid out this story? Some feedback on my characterisation would be helpful too. Come at me with your constructive criticism! I'm a big girl. I can deal with it.]**

The cell Donna had been placed in was very confined and empty. There was a cold steel bench, which she was sitting on and a small window high up on the wall with metal bars across it.

She had been allowed one phone call and immediately tried ringing the TARDIS. Unfortunately, she had only gotten The Doctor's answering machine and was now forced to do nothing, but wait to be trialled.

Figuring it was no use getting cross at The Doctor for not answering, she put her own mind to work on how she could get herself out of here. After all, it had been her own actions that had gotten her into this mess in the first place.

If The Doctor were here, he would likely have thought up several different plans by now. Donna had nothing. She assumed the sonic screwdriver could get the cell door open.

She thought longingly for that old battered wallet with the scrap of psychic paper inside. She could give herself some form of diplomatic immunity by saying she is the queen of Mars or something. That way, they would have no choice, but to apologize to her and immediately release her.

Scowling, she realised just how easily The Doctor got off scot-free for such mishaps and flew back off on his merry way in the TARDIS. For most people it is not quite so easy. He sure knew it too, which is probably why he is so damn smug all the time. Donna had neither sonic, nor psychic paper. She was on her own here, unless The Doctor eventually came looking for her and managed to track her down.

"Why did I have to go take those damn shoes?" she exasperatedly exclaimed. Getting up, she walked over to the cell door and peered through the small observation gap. There were the shoes, placed on the guard's desk, looking as stunning as ever. "Oh yeah, they're gorgeous. That's why", Donna huffed and made to sit back down.

Except she found herself spinning back round on her heels and standing, with eyes pressed up against the window again. The shoes really were beautiful. Donna shook her head. Why was a pair of shoes having such an effect on her? Sure, she'd fallen in love with items of clothing before, but this was different. She would never have pushed herself to such drastic measures, so as to wind herself up in jail for them before.

Donna shook her head quickly. These shoes were entrancing her somehow. Maybe this could be used to her advantage. Remembering how captivated the people in the street had been by the shoes, she wondered if the shoes could control anyone. Looking around she saw a couple of service bots roll past, but then she was in luck. A large whiskery guard strolled in.  
>"Excuse me!" yelled Donna. The man turned to Donna.<p>

"What the hell do you want?" asked the guard.

"I was only wondering about how you look sort of tired. It must be strenuous work, pacing up and down these cells all day. It must be doing hell for those feet of yours."

"Yes, well. A job is job, you know. It puts food on the table and all that", answered the guard.

"Why don't you put on those shoes over there? They are more comfortable than you would believe," Donna suggested

"I couldn't do that. They are supposed to stand as evidence."

"Oh go on. Look at them. You know you want to." The guard did look down at shoes. His eyes widened. The man had very large feet, yet he was still eyeing up these shoes. In fact he sat down and proceeded to pull them on his feet. To Donna's surprise they seemed to fit perfectly. They certainly were an amazing pair of shoes.

"Oh my goodness, these shoes are superb", groaned the guard contentedly. "I never want to take them off."

"And you don't have to," supplied Donna. "How about we make a deal? You let me out of here and we escape together. With these shoes, we could make a fortune together. You don't have to work a miserable job any longer and we can share these shoes."

"And why should I do that. You probably just want the shoes for yourself!" The man was beginning to seem slightly hysterical now.

Donna considered this,"Because I know the secret to the shoes. We can make more and become rich."

In his deluded state, the man believed Donna and pulled at the ring of keys looped on his belt, searching for the key to her door. He put the key in the lock and stopped, considering something.

"How do I know this isn't a trick?" asked the guard.

"I'll take you to my ship. Then you'll see that I have heaps of scientific knowledge and technology way past what is on this planet."  
>The guard seemed excited at this prospect and turned the key, then swung open the cell door and gestured for Donna to follow him.<p>

They evaded more service bots and guards, sneaking around corners and legging it through a back window, winding up in a dirty alley.  
>"Careful with the shoes," Donna hissed, when he stepped on a pile of old rotting food. The man gasped and bent down to shine them with the sleeve of his uniform. "Maybe we should each wear a shoe", suggested Donna.<p>

"And why would I want to do that?" asked the guard.

"These are a very important pair, the first proto-type. I want to make sure that at least one of them won't get ruined."

"Fine", the man grudgingly agreed.

The pair hobbled quickly through the city, each with only one shoe on. Donna found out that the guard's name was Lloyd and that he hardly made enough money as a guard to put shoe his own children's feet.  
>Donna explained that she had come here with her friend, The Doctor and that they were travelling together. She also explained that once they found him, they'd be able to keep this pair of shoes for certain.<p>

Soon, a familiar blue box came into view, still parked on the same street corner where Donna had last seen it. She quickened her pace, eager to finally be back inside the TARDIS, but also to have a go at The Doctor for not giving her enough spending money and letting her be arrested.

"What do you want to go in a box for?" Lloyd asked Donna.  
>Donna just rolled her eyes at him. In a flash she had the door unlocked and was inside the TARDIS, yelling for The Doctor. However, all was silent inside.<p>

"Hmm, The Doctor isn't here." Donna noticed. "He's probably gone looking for me", she decided, out loud. Turning on her heels, she came face to face with Lloyd, whose jaw had dropped so far, Donna wouldn't have been surprised if he had done an injury to himself.

"It's.. it's.. No that can't be," he said, before he ran back out the door. Lloyd had made two full circulations of the outer ship, before coming back inside and finishing his sentence. "It's bigger on the inside."

"And it had better be. There's no way I'm travelling inside a box, if it's only box-sized on the inside. No thank you!" replied Donna. "Right come on Lloyd. Let's look for The Doctor then. He can't have gotten too far."  
>Making her way towards the door, Donna started. A sudden twinge of panic had come over her. This feeling had not come from within her. It had come from <em>around<em> her.

Immediately, Donna knew that it had been the TARDIS communicating with her. The only way the ship could do this was by reaching out to Donna's mind, telepathically. Never before had Donna felt the ship be so worried for her Doctor. Something was terribly wrong. Donna felt the sensation grow more concentrated in her mind before experiencing it shift its focus and sort of jolt towards a hallway.  
>"Come on!" Donna yelled out to Lloyd, who had just been looking on in confusion. Donna sprinted towards where the TARDIS was directing her, with Lloyd following behind.<p>

**[A/N: Next chapter comes as soon as I have enough motivation. And nothing motivates me more than reviews!]**


	7. Here Goes

Donna's mind was now a mix of intense worry, guilt, anger, panic and fear. It was not just the TARDIS that filled her with these feelings now either.

What mess had The Doctor got himself into this time? She had no idea what she was about to find. A painful lump had formed in the woman's throat and her eyes were wet with oncoming tears.  
><em>The Doctor hadn't seemed very well<em>, Donna remembered and repeated to herself over and over, as she began chastising herself for not realising something more serious was going on any sooner.

Yes, she was angry at The Doctor for not being honest with her, then leading her astray while he hung around here, to suffer in silence. But above all, Donna felt angry at herself for not being there with The Doctor.

Back when they'd first met, Donna had told The Doctor something important, _Find somebody_. Now of course, Donna was that somebody, the one person who could tell The Doctor when to stop, when to draw the line. Yet, she had blatantly ignored her own internal protesting when The Doctor had convinced her to go her separate way from him.

A million different things could be happening to him right now. The universe was unrelentingly sparse with the possibility of so many awful things lurking, waiting to cause mayhem and destruction. That is what The Doctor had shown her.

Donna was almost disturbed by the amount of possible scenarios her mind had already come up with. The torturous images plagued her mind, most of them involving The Doctor in fatal situations involving alien creatures and deadly diseases.

Whatever she tried, the images would not leave her mind. The cascade of images became like an on-going flood behind her eyes. Her heart rate quickened and she struggled to keep breathing properly.  
><em>Focus Donna, <em>the woman told herself._ Focus is the key_.

The thought that she was on her own, was just another one Donna could not help. Well, almost alone. There was Lloyd, the disgruntled prison guard, who she knew was on her tail, eager to understand just what was going on.  
>However, she was used to having The Doctor by her side, taking charge and knowing exactly what do to and doing it so brilliantly, even if that did mean making it up as he went along.<p>

Donna reminded herself that even without The Doctor in her close presence she had achieved many things. Back at Adipose Industries she had done her own investigative work, even before he showed up. She had strength and bravery all long. She truly was brilliant. However, it had taken the Doctor to show her that.

The combination of the footsteps behind her kept her grounded. There was one foot creating loud thunks against the grated floor, while the other was a dull muffled sound, caused by the stolen shoe. Lloyd's ragged breathing was also evident as he struggled to keep up. For once, Donna was the one legging it, far ahead.  
>Whether Lloyd's accompaniment was a good thing or a bad thing, Donna did not know right now, but it felt good to have at least someone around, who could actually talk to her and maybe help.<br>Yes, a great big communicating telepathic ship was one thing, but it was nowhere near human. Donna needed some familiarity in a tough situation.

Of one thing Donna was certain. She must find The Doctor at all costs. Fearing the worst however, she kept running and did her best to prepare her mind-state for what she might come across.  
>The dimly-lit corridors winded and forked like some kind of labyrinth, but the TARDIS hinted the companion exactly where to go.<p>

Donna had gotten herself lost within the TARDIS several times before and had to wait for The Doctor to come find her. Very quickly, she had learnt her lesson not to wander these corridors and simply stick to a few main rooms.

Right now, she thanked the TARDIS for keeping such an unusually strong connection with her. If she had been able to tell what the TARDIS was thinking, Donna assumed that it would be similarly thanking Donna in return, for being there to help the Time Lord. Both ship and human had very similar intentions after all, to keep The Doctor out of harm, creating mutual respect for one another.

It became obvious as Donna drew closer and closer to the desired spot in the TARDIS. The twinge in her mind adjusted just so. While remaining urgent, there was some sense of relief.  
>Sure enough, a door ahead of her stood slightly ajar, with bright light spilling out of it. The Doctor was in there. Donna was sure.<br>_Here goes_, thought Donna with a frightened gulp as she swung the door wide open.


	8. Action

**[A/N: Here we go, chapter eight, because I was told not to keep you folks waiting so long for an update! The Doctor is sure in dire straits. Will he be alright? Hmm, its all up to me, what should I do to him? :P]**

Lying still as stone in a pool of blood was the Doctor.

Various surgical instruments were strewn around him and with an all too overwhelming realization, Donna realised The Doctor had performed surgery on his own person.

Donna's stomach did a back flip and for a moment she just stood there. Tears were already falling from her eyes. Then in a flash she was at The Doctor's side, cradling him.

Inspecting the self-made incisions on his body, she noted that he had made a vague and rough attempt to stitch up one of the wounds, but must have passed out before he could complete the job

The Doctor's face was pale as ice and gaunt-looking. Blood had spattered around his mouth, indicating that he must have coughed up the stuff. He felt cold, not his usual slightly cooler than a human's body temperature cold either, but _dead_ cold.

Donna was fumbling to find The Doctor's pulse, when Lloyd came through the door.

"Oh my god, is he alright?" Lloyd spluttered, upon seeing the man in Donna's arms.

Of course, he's not alright, you dunce. Look at him. Now, shut up."

And there it was. The gentle thrum of one heart beat underneath Donna's fingertips. This one little life sign spelled out hope. The words "He's still alive", escaped swiftly from Donna's mouth.

"We have to get him help", Lloyd told Donna. He took out some kind of mobile communicator device and pressed it to his ear. "Medic", he announced.

Donna knew that Lloyd must have been giving the details of the patient's condition and their location, but everything else around her seemed to go dull, like someone turning down a dial. All her focus was on the dying man in her arms. She had settled herself down enough to realise that The Doctor was actually breathing, although very shallow breaths that they were.

She whispered into his ear that everything would be okay. Although she did not quite believe this herself and doubted he could even hear her, but soon realised that she had mostly said it to reassure herself more than anything. She had seen The Doctor come out of tough spots before, but nothing like this.

The matter of being alone really hit home, once more. Donna did not even know what planet she was on, never mind where in time she was in. If The Doctor died would she ever see her home or family again?

"Donna", Lloyd's soft voice dimly registered, as the man gently tugged her arms away from the limp body. "We have to take care of your friend until medical transport gets here. Also, we should probably move him. Get him out onto the street where they can see us."

It was hard for Donna to let go of The Doctor. She knew it would not be a help to him, if she just hung onto him there on the floor. It struck her how calm Lloyd was being and briefly she wondered how she must look to him right now, a nervous mess.

Gently, she placed The Doctor so he was lying somewhat comfortably. Picking up The Doctor's ripped and already half-blood soaked shirt, Lloyd pressed it to The Doctor's wounds to stem the blood flow. They wrapped a thin red throw tightly around him.  
>Under different circumstances Donna might have laughed at The Doctor's odd appearance and pointed out the fact he looked like a caterpillar. Except for the fact that it truly looked like they had just wrapped a dead body, only with his head was sticking out.<p>

Thankfully, Lloyd was very strong and was able to heave the broken Time Lord up and carry him almost all by himself. Donna carried along beside the two, supporting The Doctor's lolling head and holding back more tears.

Emerging from the TARDIS, Donna was relieved to see a vehicle which was immediately recognisable as an ambulance, despite the fact that instead of wheels it simply hovered half a metre off the road. It had a siren and lights on top and the large back compartment with double doors and a stretcher. There were a few pale green uniformed people standing around scratching their heads as if wondering if they had been given the right address.

Even though Donna's voice already felt hoarse from crying, Donna managed to squawk.

"Oi! Medical fellows, we're over here." She was waving her arms frantically and gesturing to the red bundle in Lloyd's arms.

Immediately the medics flashed into the action, putting The Doctor on a hovering gurney and carting him into the back of the ambulance, scanning him and placing an oxygen mask over his face. One of the medics, a short, kind-faced woman spoke to them.

"Which one of you is next of kin?"

"I am. I suppose", replied Donna, looking again at the so fragile looking figure on the gurney.

"Good. You may take transport with him to the Hospital. Do you think you can also answer a few questions?"

Donna gave a small nod and allowed the medic to take her by the hand and help her into the back, then slammed the doors and they were on the move.

The woman had a sort of electronic clip board in her hand and began her interrogation. "May we have the patient's name please?" She asked sweetly.

"Er, John Smith."

The woman eyed Donna sceptically, but noted the answer down nonetheless.

"Do you happen to know his blood type or about any allergies or other medical history?"

Donna shook her head.

The other two medics worked had, checking The Doctor's vitals and attempting to stabilize him, by patching him up and sticking various needles in.

The Doctor's eyelids fluttered a little and a small cough emanated from his throat, producing more blood, then it was evident he was no longer able to breathe at all. The medics began him on manual intubation.

"Is he going to be alright?" She half asked, half pleaded.

"We will try our best mam, but Mr Smith here has lost a lot of blood and his body has already gone into shock. You need to be prepared for the worst." Donna's heart sunk.

_But, he has to pull through this. He's The Doctor._

"Can you tell me exactly what happened?" The medic asked, desperate for a proper answer. Donna took in a big gulp of air.

"I don't know", Donna admitted. "He knew. He wouldn't tell me though. He never does. He just keeps to himself about these things."

The medic nodded as if confirming something and then spoke very calmly.

"Can this be considered a case of self-harm?"

Donna just sort of looked at the women for a moment, thinking.

Sure, The Doctor did have his depressive moments. He certainly had things to be depressed about. The Doctor always seemed to shrug off matters on the outside, yet she knew for a fact he was truly tormented on the inside. However, he dealt with it his own way. He ran. Always running, the whole time she'd known him. Self-harm just didn't occur to her as something he would do, especially now that she was travelling with her, a friend that he could talk to, a hand to hold.

"No", Donna answered simply.

"We need you to be honest with us", stressed the medic.

"No. Its just-", Donna thought harder.

Painstakingly, remembering back to just having discovered him on the med bay floor. The bleeding incisions cut through his skin and the bloody scalpel which had been next to him. She remembered the needles and the clamps. The Doctor had other intentions on his mind.  
>"It's just that, well- he wasn't well. We were.. separated, but he'd been acting odd. I don't know what set it off. The last thing that had happened was, we were running in this jungle and he- Oh god.<p>

Realization hit her once again. The reason for The Doctor's attempted self-surgery. There was something inside of him and he had only wanted to remove it. And what was worse, was that she had _joked about it_.

It was then that one of the medics had completed his scans.

"You have to look at this", he informed the rest of the crew. They all craned their necks to get a peek at the screen on the hand-held device.

"What in hell is that?" the female medic asked.

Donna pushed the others out of the way and gasped when she found herself staring at an image of a large black insect looking creature, with several wriggling legs, a foul looking set of wings and a long sucker, which was before their very eyes, draining The Doctor, causing the organ walls to tighten and restrict.

"Get that _thing_ out of him." Donna ordered.

"Don't worry. We've just arrived. We'll have him in surgery straight away." A medic told her, before opening the doors out to bright daylight, where The Doctor was placed in the hands of others and continued his way to the emergency sector.

Donna felt helpless as she could only watch her friend and hope he would be okay. Something sort of clicked into place though. She did know one relevant thing about The Doctor after all.

"Wait!" She yelled, running to catch up with the medics "He's got two of them. He has two hearts." Frantically, she tried to get this message across, following beside them, even putting two hands to her chest to emphasize her point.

When they did not seem to be getting the message, she grabbed at an alarmed medic's shirt and beat him on both sides of the chest, before getting shunted off by security as The Doctor was moved into a strictly staff only section.


	9. The Unknown

**[A/N: I know its been a while, since I last updated this story. Put away the knives though, because I am determined to finish this Fan Fiction eventually, as it is a guilty pleasure of mine. Hopefully this chapter will tide you lot over, until whenever I have the next one up.]**

It seemed no matter where one is in the universe. All hospitals have the same atmosphere.

All the walls were either white or a light pastel shade, meant to calm visitors and patients. The whole placed smelt strongly of disinfectant. The sounds of footsteps, pagers, coughing and crying echoed around the place.  
>Donna sat in what looked like a typical waiting room, containing a few rows of uncomfortable chairs, outdated magazines, a water cooler and few sticky children's toys.<br>Sitting, slumped in her seat, head tilted back, she counted the small white tiles on the ceiling, in an attempt to make the time pass and distract herself from the deeply worrying thoughts for The Doctor's life.  
>The distraction proved ineffective and Donna was soon bawling, her face in her hands. She sobbed until there were no more tears left to shed and she felt thoroughly and totally exhausted.<p>

Although completely spent, Donna managed to look up immediately when she heard a man's voice gently say her name.  
>Expecting to see an orderly with news for her, she did her best to mentally prepare, but found she did not have to, just yet. Instead, she was greeted by an outstretched arm, wielding a warm mug of what smelled like coffee.<p>

"Thought you might need this", said the voice. Looking up further, Donna realised that the arm indeed belonged to someone very familiar. Gratefully accepting the hot drink from her new friend, Lloyd, she gestured for her him to sit down next to her. "Any news?" Lloyd asked hopefully.

Donna shook her head in reply and took a small sip of her coffee, even though her stomach protested from all the stress. She had grown tired and needed to stay awake for The Doctor's sake.

Lloyd seemed to pick up on how Donna was felling and said that if she needed to rest for a bit, he would wake her if an orderly came. Feeling incredibly grateful, Donna put a hand around Lloyd's and squeezed it, before letting herself lie over the row of seats and her eyes drift closed.

Donna was jostled awake Lloyd's large hand on her shoulder. Although, feeling as though she had barely slept, already all she could focus on was The Doctor. Sitting up, she found herself faced with a polka-dotted orderly with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Is he alright? Is the Doc- I mean John.. is John going to be okay?" Donna fumbled.

"There were a few complications during surgery Mam. We had some difficulty with his physiology when he was on our table and there were some cardio complications. One of our team remembered something you said about having two hearts though and we were able to get them both working.

"He has lost a dangerous amount of blood and ordinarily we would perform a blood transfusion. Under these circumstances however, we have not. His body seemed to be compensating for the blood loss all by itself, but with such open wounds, this was not proving much use, so we had to stem the blood flow quickly and close the wounds as best we could.

"We were under the impression that John Smith was human, but his physiology and blood work would suggest otherwise. Our surgeons are unfamiliar with his species, so we had to use a lot of guess work while in theatre.

"He's still critical and he may need extra surgery. We have him intubated. For now we are monitoring him," explained the orderly.

"Can I see him?" Donna pleaded.

"We can arrange it. However he will be under sedation," replied the orderly.

"That's alright. I just need to see him", stressed Donna.

"Very well, follow me", the orderly instructed.

Escorted through a few corridors, Donna found herself at the unit holding The Doctor. The place was situated right by the nurses' station, with glass walls, so The Doctor could be closely monitored.

Right now, Donna was looking through the glass to her sick friend, who was attached and surrounding by various machines. One of them was breathing for him. Donna reached to pull the sliding door across, when the orderly put a hand out to stop her.  
>"There's something else you should know," he confessed.<p>

Her head snapped around sharply, to stare down the orderly menacingly, as if to warn him that he must not even dare keeping anything else from her, she shot back at him.

"And what might that be?" she looked at the orderly's name badge "Doctor Frazer O'Donnell?"

The man could not keep eye contact, so instead chose to look down at the chart in his hand for a bit and answered,

"The surgery was not quite the success we hoped for. You see, we planned to go in, remove the foreign body, repair any damage and stitch him back up. However, there were one or two more complications.

"The parasite was previously thought to be an extinct species you see. However, we believe that this particular specimen, which has chosen John Smith as its host is in fact the last of its kind. And what's more, it is incubating its eggs within his intestine.  
>The endangered species act is preventing us from removing the flies, should they die and be wiped out forever. I am sorry.<p>

"We are making it our upmost priority to keep both of them alive and healthy. I promise you that. However, until the mother has passed on and the offspring are ready, we cannot separate them."

The orderly did not even have time to blink, before he received the hard slap across his face.

* * *

><p>Initially, Lloyd had chosen to let Donna deal with her friend first and he would come in later to visit. However this plan quickly faltered when he heard quite a commotion coming from the Critical Care Unit. It was undoubtedly Donna's voice and she was clearly not happy.<p>

"You idiots! Don't you understand? That man there is the last of his kind too! He's a bloody _Time Lord,_ for god's sake! And needs to be protected, a whole lot more than some parasite!"

In a flash Lloyd was up and rushing to help however he could.

When Lloyd arrived at the CCU, he was welcomed by a scene, involving Donna standing behind The Doctor's bed, wielding a needled syringe and threatening it at the range of orderlies and security guards trying to get at her. Her wide eyes and frantic expression made her look wild.

"Mam, for everyone's safety, we are asking you to please stand down. Let us talk this out with reason," said one of the staff.

"Yeah, I'll give you reason bucko - a whole needle full of it! Now get away from The Doctor or I swear I will use this on the next one of you that so much as dares to move even an inch closer."

"Donna, calm down. What's wrong?" Lloyd ventured, coming up behind the crowd of staff. Upon hearing her friends voice,

"Lloyd, oh Lloyd, you've got to help us! These people need to see some reason. They were supposed to help The Doctor. Instead they have decided to make sure the thing that is killing him, is kept inside him, where it can have its babies. These people are _sick_, Lloyd!"

Lloyd watched the medical staff in horror and then looked to Donna, who was being restrained by a couple of burly security members, who had seized the chance when Lloyd had distracted her. Being a large guy himself, he was tackling them in an attempt to make them unhand Donna. Everyone stopped what they were doing however, when an alarm went off from The Doctor's heart monitor.


	10. Tell Me More

His eyes snapping open The Doctor found himself facing a tiled ceiling of a dark room.

_Must be night time_, he concluded.

However he soon found himself submerged in complete darkness, when two heavy eyelids failed to stay open much longer.

Fighting against whatever reason was making him so drowsy, The Doctor tried to gather his thoughts and figure out where he was and what was happening to him. Usually, it never took this long and that frustrated him.

Oh, he remembered pain. He knew of that, for sure. There had been a lot of it. He could feel it now, though, thankfully, he was no longer right in the thick of it, like he had been.

Yet, he was aware of it and also something else in his system, blocking his pain receptors. He had been drugged. Now that was never a good sign. Seldom did anyone particularly nice try to drug him. He wondered what their motives were. Was he being held prisoner? Where was Donna? Was she alright?

Battling ever more fiercely against the unwelcome sleep that beckoned him, he tried so hard to get up, move, or even open his eyes, but was no use and then he was under so deep, even his thoughts were absent.

* * *

><p>Donna was distressed. Nothing had gone right ever since she had surrendered The Doctor over to this medical scum.<p>

Not only had Lloyd and she been detained in a confined hospital room by security for quite a time, but the drugs were not working on The Doctor - would not comply with his alien biology.

They had eventually found something that would dope him out, without causing any more damage to his 'binary-vascular system', which was most fortunate as now he was only surviving on one functional heart. The left one simply refused to start, despite the different methods they had tried.

He had been in surgery more times than she would have liked today. Most of the medical mumbo jumbo she was told went straight over her head. Donna felt useless. This was the best care she could provide for her alien friend, even though it was left up to others. She honestly had no idea what else she could possibly do. At least he was alive. Well, for now.

There was one thing she did know how to do though and that was shouting at people.  
>She shouted at the nurses, she shouted at the medics, she shouted at the surgeons, she shouted at the security and now she was inside a large and rather daunting office, shouting at the head of medicine.<p>

"WHO IN THE RIGHT MIND PUTS THE LIFE OF A BLOODY INSECT OVER A PERSON'S?" She screeched at the smartly dressed, round spectacled, balding man, who was sitting at the opposite side over the desk.

The way he withstood the full force of Donna Noble so calmly was bewildering. The man was leaning forward slightly, with his hands laid out on the desk in front of him. One would be under the impression that he dealt with this kind of situation all the time. It was not until Donna had finished ranting at him and was stood, gasping for breath, that the head of medicine raised a hand and turned his hearing aid on. _The nerve of him!_

She wanted to reach across the desk and throttle him until his silly spectacles were knocked off his awful face. Donna restrained herself. She knew the man would have a security call button under his desk and she did not need another visit from those blokes.

Instead she slid back down into her seat and heaved a great sigh in exasperation. The head of medicine took this as his chance to speak.

"Ms Smith. I want to apologize for any distress my medical facility has caused you. We understand that you are deeply concerned for your significant other and are working hard to get him well within the constraints of special law.

"At our hospital we go firmly by the rule book. Already this case has alerted the attention of our planets endangered species experts, as well as social media. We would not even have a chance to quietly bend the rules without my facility being shut down."

Donna did truly believe this man was sorry. However this did not help lighten or quell her anger and frustration in any way. "Now", he continued "I have waiting outside someone else who wishes to speak to you."

He pressed a button, which emitted a buzz and a tall and sophisticated woman came walking in. She shook hands with Donna and introduced herself as Professor Moore, before taking a seat.

"I am the one who discovered that the species inhabiting Mr Smith is indeed the Sephtinite."  
>Already, Donna felt an intense hatred for this woman.<br>"Until now, my colleagues and I had understood Sephtinites to be long died out, due to longer having the correct food source to host its young.

"It is somewhat a parasite. Long ago it was in fact a problem creature on this very planet and to maintain them, it was made legal to hunt its food source a much larger animal, the Blardiicore. Yet, when the government and people of this planet finally took pity on its wildlife there was few and far between left.

"Your partner is something different though. Something far more malleable than has ever set foot here and somehow attracted the very last Sephtinite. I scarcely can believe how it is even possible, but it has happened. I have devoted my life to wildlife research and population control. To come across a find like this is a dream come true for me.

"It saddens me that the adult Sephtinite within Mr Smith will pass on, but its offspring will hatch and continue to thrive. Once this has happened we can put into effect the next actions, so you can have John back in one piece and I can set about restoring the Sephtinite species.

"It is my understanding that this will be a very delicate process, due to the considerable weakness Mr Smith is already enduring, but we have great medical staff here. I'm sure it won't be long, before he's out of the woods."

The woman smiled and patted a hand on Donna's shoulder in what must have been with the intention of comfort, but seemed a lot more condescending. She thanked Donna and the head of medical for their time and backtracked out of the room.

Donna held her face in her hands, but she refused to cry. She promised herself she would not cry anymore. At least not until this mess was over. She looked back up at the head of medicine. The man looked back at her expectantly.

"Please, I need to be with him", Donna insisted.


	11. Ways

**[A/N: Sorry if the last chapter was really boring. I just felt I had to update with something. However, gonna try and stick with quality over quantity, I think]**

Donna found herself complying with hospital staff for now, even if that meant having to be escorted by security. It was all she could do to help The Doctor at the moment, other than just hoping he would find some Time Lord way to pull through.

Continually, going through her mind was the matter that The Doctor never told her he was ill or in pain, that he had taken the matter into his own hands, when he clearly could not go it alone. What was he thinking?  
>He should know by now that he needs someone with him to stop him doing such stupid things. And to think, he liked to call himself a genius. Donna however knew him for what he was, a complete outer space dunce.<p>

The security guard waited in the hall and gestured that it was okay to enter The Doctor's room. Once she stepped inside, Donna vowed not to leave his side.

There he was lying in the hospital bed, still intubated, with the ventilator breathing for him, hooked up to several machines which monitored his vitals, one of them even boasted an image of the parasite, now surrounded by hundreds of round shapes, what could only have been its eggs.  
>It twitched inside the cavity it had created for itself within The Doctor's now so paper-thin intestines. It was as if they could tear at slightest of his movements.<p>

Eyeing up the rest of him, she took in how frail and twig-like The Doctor had become. She always made fun of how The Doctor was much too skinny, but this was just cruel. It seemed to her that his bones stuck out even further, than when she had last seen him. The largest part of him was his abdomen, but only because it was so heavily bandaged.  
>Several intravenous drips were feeding through different substances into his system. She hoped that at least one of them was giving him some of the much needed sustenance that was so quickly being drained from him.<p>

She was shocked that one of the bags was full of blood. Had the medic not said he was producing blood on his own? Where would they possibly have found the right blood to give him anyway? He was the last of his kind. She hated to consider the consequences of giving him the wrong blood.

"Excuse me!" Donna bellowed out at a nearby orderly, who was just checking up on another patient. "What the hell sort of blood is that, you're giving him?" The medic was startled at the outburst and hastily, checked the bag and then The Doctor's patient chart.

"It is alright Ms Smith," the medic reassured Donna, explaining to her. "This is from an artificially produced, broad spectrum blood supply, which we use for cases like this.

"Mr Smith failed to keep producing his own blood, when his second heart gave out. This is a top up, to keep him strong. He is going to need plenty of strength to get through this."

It seemed to Donna, that The Doctor's Time Lord ways were failing on him and perhaps were not enough to get him out of this after all. Pulling up a chair, Donna made a place for herself at The Doctor's bed side. Gently, she brushed The Doctor's hair out from his face and whispered to him,

"It'll be alright. You're always alright, remember", she feigned a shot of laughter at this, thinking back to the many times The Doctor claimed he was A-Okay, when in reality he could not fool anybody and was clearly deeply suffering.

The laugh soon turned into a loud sniff and sharp intake of breath that was released only with several tears. Wiping her eyes, she said,  
>"I wish there was more I could do for you. I yelled my loudest, but that's about it. I'm only a temp after all, but you Doctor, you're magnificent. If this situation was reversed and I was the one so ill, you would have already fixed this and made it all better."<p>

Although asleep, The Doctor's features did not seem completely relaxed and she hoped he was not uncomfortable, or in any pain. She fluffed his pillow slightly and then took to squeezing his hand tight and clung to her vow. She was going to stay with him, forever.


	12. News

**[A/N: And finally, we have chapter titles for this fic!]**

"_Once upon a time there lived a poor shoemaker and his wife. Times were hard and they were failing to feed themselves, let alone pay the rent. The shoemaker had given away his last pair of shoes to a lady far more in need than himself. And alas, all that he had left was but one last scrap of leather._

_He cut this piece of leather and laid it out, ready for the making of one last pair of shoe. Though his troubles were many, his conscience was clear and he went to sleep peacefully and prepared to rise early for work the next day._

_When the shoemaker awoke, he was pleasantly surprised to find the shoes, already made, sitting upon his work bench. Looking them over, he noticed there was not a stitch out of place and that the pair was in fact quite a masterpiece. Nor he or his wife knew what to make of it._

_The very same day a customer came in and found that the shoes suited him so well, he willingly paid a higher than usual price for them. With the money from his sale, the shoemaker pays the rent, goes to market, where he purchases food for him and his wife, enough leather for two more pairs of shoes and even gives some of his food to a poor and hungry traveller he meets. That night he again lays out his cut out leather for the next morning and retires to bed early._

_The next morning he is again wonder struck, when he finds two ready-made pairs of shoes, just as spectacular looking as the previous pair. A customer soon comes in and speaks of how his friend bought a very fine pair of shoes from this maker yesterday and would like a pair of his own. He pays a handsome price for the first pair of shoes, leaving the shoemaker and his wife over-joyed. The shoemaker purchases more leather with these earnings, this time enough for three more pairs of shoes and gifts a needy person on the street with the second pair of shoes._

_That night he and his wife decide to stay awake, but keep hidden, in order to find who is really doing all the hard work for them. Sure enough, to their astonishment, midnight came and two small, naked elves appeared. Spotting the cut out leather on the workbench, they set to work, carefully, but quickly sewing together the leather into three pairs of shoes with their little hands. They finished long before the sun rose and disappeared once more._

_Wanting to show gratitude to the elves for their act of kindness and hard work, which has provided such wealth, the shoe maker's wife suggests they provide something for the elves, to keep them warm during this harsh winter. So the shoemaker's wife knits some clothing and the shoemaker makes two pairs of the smallest shoes he's ever made. That night they leave these gifts out for the elves and stuck around to watch what the elves would do._

_At midnight, the elves appeared once more, skipping about happily, ready to get to work. When they saw the little clothes and shoes laid out for them they danced with glee, pulling on the garments and footwear in the twinkling of an eye, laughing to each other, before skipping off again._

_The couple never saw the elves again, but from then on, everything went well for them, for as long as they lived. The End."_

_Geoffrey Noble sighed as he finished reading from his daughter's favourite book of fairy tales and shut it closed. The weary-eyed little Donna Noble smiled up at her father who put one palm around her rosy cheek and kissed her on the top of her wee ginger head, before leaving her bedroom and switching off the light._

* * *

><p>Donna was ripped from what she felt had been a rather pleasant dream. However, she quickly forgot about it as she was distracted by the reason for her rude awakening. Lloyd was jostling her awake and calling her name.<p>

"Donna, we have to get out of here. It's public now. We're wanted by law enforcement for theft. We've only a matter of time."

He pointed up at a screen, which showed news bulletins of the last Sephtinite mysteriously surviving inside a very odd medical centre patient.

What was more alarming though was the news bulletin underneath it, showing a small fuzzy CCTV picture of Lloyd and Donna escaping from prison, with the stolen shoes in tow.

Lloyd held an outstretched palm to Donna, indicating with his head towards the doors, that they had to leave, fast.  
>Yes, she had vowed not to leave The Doctor again, but it seemed she had no other choice right now. She placed her hand in Lloyd's and they made a break for it.<p>

They were half way down the hallway, when law enforcement soon spotted the pair and were on their tale, shouting.

"Halt! You are under arrest!"

Evading their pursuers being their top priority at present, Lloyd and Donna were quick on their feet, rounding a corner.

Donna thought fast, spying a laundry cart she dove into it, with Lloyd following in suit.  
>Silently, not even daring to breathe, the two waited for the array of hurried footsteps to pass.<br>After checking the coast was clear, Lloyd had donned a medical mask and set of scrubs from inside the laundry pile, at Donna's suggestion and was soon pushing it out the med centre's exit and into an alleyway, where they ditched the cart and escaped once again to freedom.

* * *

><p>Donna already had a plan. She had thought of it quite a while back now. She explained the plan to her partner in crime, who commended her on her it. Taking care to stay well out of sight, by edging around buildings and sticking to back roads and alleys, they were back again at the trusty blue box.<p>

Rushing inside, she immediately felt more at ease, as the welcoming comfort of the ship surrounded her. Looking back at Lloyd, she noticed how he still seemed rather overwhelmed by the box's interior, yet managed to keep up with her. With even more added confidence, she heads back to that god forsaken med bay.

Heading through the door and into the room, she already expects the awful memories to come flooding back, from when she first discovered the crumpled and mangled form of the Doctor, drenched in his own blood, more lifeless than she had ever seen him.  
>They'll probably haunt her forever, especially if The Doctor does not end up pulling through this dilemma.<br>_  
>No, he will. He'll be alright<em>. Donna mentally reminds herself.

Focussing on exactly why she was back in this room, she looked around and realized just how less horrific the scene really was than last time. The med bay was clean, not a spot of blood anywhere, no instruments lining the floor.

She scanned the room for what she needed. There, on the bench was The Doctor's clothing, repaired, cleaned and even folded. Picking up the suit jacket, she reached into the pocket, feeling around until she found what she so desperately needed.

"Ah hah!" cried Donna, gratifyingly holding up the battered leather wallet, containing their salvation.

**[A/N: Any comments, thoughts, opinions, constructive criticism, reviews, passing remarks? Leave one behind before exiting the page. Please. It would make my day.]**


	13. Experiment

**[A/N: Chapter number 13 (unlucky for some, but even unluckier for The Doctor it seems to be, as this chapter goes at least.)]**

Professor Moore was thrilled.

In all her career she had never come across such an opportunity quite like what she had right now. Lying defenceless, in a medical bed, was the one thing that could excel her scientific career beyond anything she could quite imagine. She could go down in the history books for this one!

Already, she had been performing her own uncharted tests, in secret, extracted samples and had been astounded by the results she had received. Sure, she had been pushing her luck up until now, but the scientific opportunities of this case were screaming at her to be abused.

Oh how she was itching to study the being more thoroughly! Only she would not be able to do so in the medical centre without attracting too much negative attention. There had to be a way she could get him on his own for a bit, so she could get full reign, for a while. With a call on her communicator, back to her lab, she began preparing for her devious plan.

Soon, everything was set and ready to take place. When she was sure nobody else seemed to be hovering about, even the red-headed spouse, it was her chance to take the Sephtinite host as her own to do what she pleased with.  
>She could have him back well before the time when he would need any more medical attention. It was a risk she was willing to take for science. The end justified the means.<p>

Gently she detached The Doctor from anything too important and disabled the monitoring equipment that would set off an alarm. She then signalled to her research assistant, who came in with a wheel chair.  
>Molly, in all her nervousness and youth, was easily manipulated and eager to please her supervisor. In short, she was the perfect accomplice to this little scheme.<p>

Together, they lifted the limp form The Doctor and placed him in the chair. After re-checking his vitals and the status of the Sephtinite, then wrapping a blanket around the subject and tying a mask around his face, it was time that they make a quick departure.

Nobody noticed that the two women wearing lab coats, leaving the ward, with a patient in tow and attached equipment stand dragged along behind were not the patient's doctors at all. They were in fact his kidnappers.

When they were out of the building with their test subject unnoticed, Professor Moore almost could not believe her luck, but kept her cool until after they had settled their captive into the back of the escape vehicle, confirmed his condition was stable and that he was suitably restrained, to avoid any movement that could harmful to the Sephtinite during the journey to the lab.

"Oh this is brilliant! Think of the scientific advancements I am going to make. Thank you for your assistance girl," Professor Moore exclaimed.  
>"No problem Professor," replied Molly, focussing on driving.<p>

The building that their vehicle eventually pulled up to was big and grey. It appeared as a simple warehouse, cold and unforgiving. Molly hastily exited the vehicle and went to get their newest experiment out from the back. As soon as she opened the vehicle's back door she cried a shrill "Professor!"

"Yes, what is it girl?" Professor Moore answered, coming up beside her.

Glancing upon The Doctor she was taken aback to see his eyes were wide open, his pupils darting about at his surroundings in a panic as sweat coated his features.  
>"Get him inside", ordered Professor Moore.<p>

Molly was quick to obey and they soon had the test subject on a stretcher and were moving him inside the building, into the main experimentation suite, where they placed him on the table. Molly kept a watchful eye on the screen's vitals which were rapidly increasing as the bony figure began squirming. In attempt to yell he began choking on his respirator.

"We must sedate him," pointed out Molly as she went to prepare a syringe, but Professor Moore put out an arm, stopping her.

"No. I have another idea."

The professor had turned around and opened a draw, from which she produced some equipment, which the professor blocked from view. After a moment, she turned back around and held up a different syringe.

"And what would that be?" Molly asked curiously.

"From the little research I was able to get done at that medical institute, it appeared that whatever affects the host, does not affect the Sephtinite. It's almost as if the host's body is naturally able to protect any other living thing inside it. I have to confirm this though, for which I need him conscious." And with that, she plunged the needle into The Doctor's neck and watched as the substance did its work.

Gently Molly stroked a hand across The Doctor's face as it twisted and contorted.

"It's hurting him. What did you give him?" she demanded of the professor.

"Bit of this, a bit of that, nothing that will do anything permanent to the subject. What it does do is alter and change the body temporarily. It's my own concoction. I don't intend to simply cause pain though my dear. This is in the name of science if you'll recall, now look at this, would you?" She gestured at some read-outs.  
>"The substance is having a strong effect on our subject, but the Sephtinite family doesn't seem to have changed at all. So it can be confirmed that the subject can channel the foreign toxin away from anything the Sephtinite might be absorbing.<p>

"Now I don't know what might cause this - some sort of internal shielding organism perhaps? Really I have no clue, but we're going to find out."

The next method the professor used was the radiation booth and exposing the specimen to such large waves, which would have been very dangerous to most species, but their specimen did not so much as flinch.

The professor continued to dial up the radiation to as much as the machine would allow possible. Only then did the specimen react by squirming.  
>"Impossible", murmured the professor, marvelling at how not only how the host stand so much radiation being absorbed to its body, but neither the Sephtinite, nor its eggs had absorbed any at all.<p>

Molly watched on as their experiments went were drawn out, assisting the professor, but taking pity on the man they were doing this to and constantly wondering to herself if any of this was truly necessary. At one point she cleared her throat with a cough and spoke up.

"Professor, do you think maybe perhaps it isn't the host that is protecting the Sephtinite. Maybe the Sephtinite is just really strong?" she suggested.

"Nonsense girl, it's the host I am sure of it. Just look at the way he absorbed so much radiation. He's different. But why and how is it so different?" The professor said as she pulled over another machine.  
>This one had electrodes on it, which Molly went ahead and placed around the host's head. She mouthed a <em>sorry<em> and the professor switched on the machine.

At first, nothing happened. Molly stared at the professor, confusion in her eyes. The professor dialled up the machine further, then further again, when still nothing happened.  
>However, when the dial was already well over the suggested danger zone, the host finally began to twitch, but only slightly.<p>

Turning it up even more, the professor still was not getting a satisfied reaction. In frustration she gave the dial an almighty spin and, visible sparks began shooting out from the electrodes, loud zapping electricity could be heard, the smell of burning flesh filled the air and their experiment had shot upright, his eyes wide as ever, the tendons on his neck sticking out.  
>Molly looked up at the professor who was stood, watching this happen with a grin pulling up at the corner of her mouth. She woman looked incredibly ominous in the way her face was lit and shadowed by the electric flashes.<p>

"I think that's enough now professor," she said timidly, but still the professor watched. "PROFESSOR!" she then tried desperately.

That was it. Molly took it upon herself to switch off the machine.

The host's body immediately flopped back down, still. "What was that all about?" the girl asked of her superior. The professor simply shook her head in a slow drawn out action.

"Amazing," spoke the professor, rechecking the read-outs. "All those volts and he's fine absolutely fine.

"I don't know about that," interjected Molly.

"I mean yes he felt pain," the professor simply continued "But that should've killed him and the Sephtinite and its offspring remain unharmed."

"No really," insisted Molly.

"This ground breaking stuff here girl. Oh I am definitely going in the history books!"

"Professor, he's grey," Molly stated, urgently.

Only then did Professor Moore finally take in what her research assistant was trying to get across. Glancing down at their experiment, she realised that any surgery he had must have gone wrong and was bleeding through.

"I can fix this," said the professor, spinning to get equipment.

"No," said Molly.

"What was that girl?" replied the professor.

"I said no," repeated Molly.

The professor then turned around and was startled. Her young assistant was holding her at gunpoint. "This man needs proper medical care. We can't give him that. All he's had so far is blatant torture and I won't stand for any more of it."

"Don't be silly girl. If you take him back to the medical centre now, we're both going to prison."

"Maybe that's what we deserve," sniffed Molly. Still holding the gun out, albeit a little shakily. "Will you help?" Molly pleaded.

"I won't go to prison," stated the professor.

The lab assistant then hauled The Doctor up with the other arm and dragged him back out of the building, fury in her eyes as she still aimed the gun at her superior.

All professor Moore did was stand with her hands raised, wondering just how the tables had managed to turn.


	14. Utmost Urgency

**[A/N: Looks like you lot enjoyed the previous chapter. I am quite partial to it myself. Hopefully I don't disappoint with the amount of whump in this.**

**By the way, I am very much enjoying a fic at the moment, called "**_**The Underground**_**" written by **_**TheMysteriousComicGeek**_**, which has bucket loads of whump and amazingly quick updates, so thought I might drop a recomendation to my readers.]**

Donna felt smug. Getting to use the psychic paper was always thrilling, but usually it was The Doctor who got to flash it and decide who they got to be.

"My deepest apologies, your majesty," the chief of law enforcement uttered, bowing down to Donna Noble. "Any charges put against you will be dropped, I assure you."

"Good," said Donna, expecting no less.

"Will there be anything more that you require?" spoke the chief.

"I would like to be with John Smith now please," she stated.

"Why certainly. Right this way," he gestured. Donna and Lloyd started down the hallway together, when the chief put a hand out, signalling for him to stop. "The prison guard must be reprimanded."

"Humph, I don't think so, mister. Lloyd comes with me", she said, folding her arms indignantly. If the chief had looked hesitant, he wasn't about to argue.

"Very well your majesty. Go ahead"

Lloyd and Donna embarked back to The Doctor's ward. Cheekily, they grinned at each other for their accomplishment, after they had turned the corner, out of sight from any authorities. Their joy abruptly stopped however, when they reached The Doctor's room and found his bed empty.

"What?" Donna spluttered, walking right around the bed, even checking underneath it.

"What?" she repeated ten times louder, rushing from the room and over to the nurse's station, Lloyd tagging swiftly behind.

"Is something the matter?" asked the attending nurse calmly, when she saw the hot-tempered red head storming over with the cross-looking guard.

"Where is he? Where's John Smith?" Donna shouted.

"It's alright dear. He's with a couple of medics. They took him away to a different floor quite a while ago now. Must be for some extra tests or scans, sit tight. I'm sure they'll have him back soon." The nurse gestured to a seat.  
>Another nurse who had just arrived, setting down her clipboard looked up at the two of them nervously, then over at a screen, looking very wide-eyed with distress.<p>

"Nurse Slade, Ms Smith, I don't want to alarm either of you, but no such procedure has been entered into our system."

"Excuse me?" uttered Donna "What kind of hospital are you running here?"

"I'll just contact Medic O'Donnell. Hey may know the patient's whereabouts," she answered quickly, picking up a comm.

"You've lost him! You've bloody lost him – let any old strangers come in and take him away, so they can do god knows what to him!"

The nurse's eyes flickered up at the teary-eyed Donna.

"Calm down Ms Smith. We will sort this."

While the nurse spoke quickly to the medic over the communicator, Donna stood fuming.  
>Thoughts raced through her mind about who could have The Doctor in their clutches and what they were doing to him. Would she be able to find him? What sort of condition would he be in? Would he even still be alive?<p>

She had let the Doctor down big time. Her heart was racing. Exhaustedly she slumped into a seat. Lloyd placed an arm around her.

"It'll be alright", he said, squeezing Donna's hand. Then there was a cough from behind the desk and she shot to her feet again.

"Your majesty, I am to escort you to the head of medicine, where you will also meet with the chief of law enforcement."

Wanting Lloyd to be with her for support, she clung to his hand. Her body was shaking with the doubt and despair that was consuming her. She had to fight hard to stay optimistic and in control. Squeezing Lloyd's hand hard seemed to help mildly and he did not seem to mind.

After walking the medical centre's corridors once more, they assembled in the office of the head of medicine. Unlike before, the man was not sitting behind his desk so calmly, but rather pacing the middle of the room, speaking animatedly with the law enforcement chief and mopping his brow with a handkerchief.  
>Nurse Slade curtsied to Donna and then to Lloyd, awkwardly, before hastily scampering from the room, closing the door behind her and leaving the party to it.<p>

Immediately, Donna was having a go at the two figures of authority.

"How could you possibly let this happen? Where is he? Oh, I am going to wring the neck of whoever is responsible for this!" Lloyd was forced to hold Donna back, to refrain her from doing just so.

"Relax. We have our technicians going through security footage," assured the head of medicine. "We promise you, we'll get to the bottom of this. We understand you've been through enough. Would you like to sit down?" He then asked, gesturing to a seat.

Although still shaking tremendously, Donna shook her head, ignoring the offer. She wasn't about to rest until her Spaceman was found.

"There must be more that you're doing to find him?" She questioned.

"We've issued a city-wide search for him," answered the chief, stepping forward into a confident stance. "And I have officers on all floors, questioning staff, patients and visitors."

"We have high standards at my medical facility," insisted the head of medicine. "Never have we let something like this slip through the cracks on us."

"YEAH, WELL IT OBVIOUSLY HAS DONE, SO BUTTON IT, BALDY!" Donna exclaimed.

The three men were temporarily lost for words at the ginger woman's outburst.  
>However, the silence was soon cut short by a sudden loud commotion somewhere down the corridor, followed by several urgent tones that emitted from their communicators and finally the member of staff that came crashing into the room with an instruction.<p>

"Come quick. John Smith's been brought in."

* * *

><p>Five sets of feet stampeded down the corridor to where a scene was already playing out. Law enforcement had the room surrounded. A couple of them were apprehending a young woman, while medical staff crowded and bustled around what turned out to be a figure slumped in a wheelchair. Donna knew immediately who the figure was and rushed forward, pushing past anyone who dared to get in her way.<p>

"Spaceman, oh Spaceman," Donna moaned, finding it quite impossible to feel any sort of relief at the sight which greeted her.

So completely off colour and shaking, with eyes that were red rimmed and riddled with pain, ugly looking welts covered him and he was leaking so much blood that the bandages just could not hold in. The Doctor was in possibly the worst mess she had ever seen him in. Donna was made to step back a bit, as many hands carefully transferred The Doctor from the chair, to the gurney.

To her surprise, The Doctor let out a loud cry.  
>"Oh god", whispered Donna. One of the medics went to compress the bleeding, but stepped back in shock with a yell.<br>Everyone's attention was turned to The Doctor's abdomen, where something was visibly squirming just under the surface.

Donna felt sick. Luckily, the strong arms of Lloyd were there in time to catch her as she swayed backwards and was out for the count.

"Get this man into the O.R. stat!" barked the head of medicine.


	15. The Hatching

**[A/N: ****A warning for the squeamish; this chapter involves some things, you might just want to skim over****.**

**Also, because I've been asked a couple of times; the cover picture for this story is a screenshot from a film called "Recovery". If you haven't seen it, go check it out. The whole thing is on YouTube and David Tennant is very good (as usual!) in it.]**

Ginger. He could see some ginger hair. Maybe it was his hair? That's it! He must have regenerated.

That explained the pain he was in and why he felt so disorientated. He tried to remember how he had died, but everything was foggy and blurred together.  
>He tried to move, but he found he could not. His body felt weighed down and heavy. He tried to open his eyes as much as possible and focus on this one thing that stood out to him.<p>

There was something more to this ginger hair. He just knew it. He wanted to get closer to it and touch it. However, he found the ginger came closer to him. There were voices and a lot of noise, but it all sounded as if it were underwater.

Then everything spun around him and pain consumed all his senses. There was more commotion, but The Doctor had given up trying to make sense of anything else, closing his eyes, hoping to fall asleep and when he woke up everything would be fine.

* * *

><p>A slap across the face brought Donna Noble back to the world of the conscious.<p>

"Oi what was that for?" she yelled at the strange man crouching over her. He then turned his head, seemingly to speak to someone else.

"She's fine," he said. Donna was not enjoying being ignored. Wriggling about to get up, she found she was laid in someone else's lap and spun herself around.

"Hello Donna," they spoke. It was Lloyd.

"Hi Lloyd," replied Donna. Then everything came back to her. Scanning the whole room, she started to panic. "Where's The Doctor?" she demanded.

"They've taken him to be operated on," Lloyd answered.

"Someone's taken him," Donna cried, her heart-beat increasing.

"No. It's alright Donna. He is safe, or he will be. He's with medics," Lloyd assured, holding both Donna's shoulders firmly.

After all she had been through, Donna felt very sceptical, but when she stopped and listened to Lloyd, she found the tone of his voice to be trustworthy. There was honesty in those eyes of his too. Then, when she was calm she realised what he was saying made sense. She had indeed seen The Doctor brought into the hospital taken care of my some orderlies.

"Oh Lloyd," she spoke, sinking into his arms. He held her closely, rubbing her back, not minding that his guard uniform was becoming damp with his friend's tears.

Then a thought occurred to Donna. "How did he get back here? Someone must've brought him in, yeah?"

Lloyd just looked across to the other side of the room. Following, Lloyd's gaze, Donna saw a young woman in a lab coat being handcuffed. Donna stood up and stormed over to her. "I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!" she scowled.  
>The young woman looked terrified.<p>

"Please, listen to me. I'm sorry. Really, I am. I deserve every sort of punishment after what I did." Donna stopped herself. The girl was in tears.

"Why did you do it?" Donna demanded.

"I was working for Professor Moore. Mr John Smith was meant to be part of a new experiment. I didn't know that we would be," the girl gulped, "Torturing him."

A sharp slap rang through the room. Donna kept her hand held up threateningly, while the girl cowered.  
>"I stopped her though. I realised what we were doing was wrong –saw some sense, but not the Professor. She had gone mad, I swear! I saw he needed help and brought him back here for medical attention. Moore wouldn't help me though. She's still out there still, unpunished."<p>

"She speaks the truth," said a tall, uniformed alien with pale skin. "I've gone over the security footage. Both Molly here and Professor Moore left the building with John Smith a few hours ago and loaded him into their van."

"Okay. We have a new search then. Track down this Professor Moore and have her apprehended," ordered the chief of law enforcement.

Donna moved in close to Molly, so that they were eye to eye, fire burning in her eyes' deathly glare.

How dare you" she spoke, her voice a growl. Then her face changed, softened. "Thank you for bringing him back to me."

* * *

><p>In the operating room, the surgeons had the patient under an anaesthetic, open on their table. They had cauterised the bleeding. The patient was in a far worse condition, than the first time he had come to them. In fact he appeared as though he had been tortured with the amount of burn marks and slashes he bore.<p>

His ventilator had become filled with blood and had been removed. He seemed to be breathing alright on his own at least, but they monitored his oxygen levels and respiratory rate closely.

The patient was so fragile looking that the surgeon had been almost worried to make the first incision. Putting any hesitations aside though, he cut at the already open wound, finding the sensation similar into cutting through tissue paper.

Now the surgeon was inside him. His insides were a mess. It seemed that any trauma he had been through had re-opened their previous repairs to his organs. The intestines were very tight and thin, except for a large swollen portion, where lumps squirmed inside. Blood spurted and the medics gasped as the dark hairy leg of the Sephtinite punctured through.

Someone suctioned the excess blood and the surgeon made an incision next to where the leg protruded, wriggling about. The walls of the intestine fell apart and everyone stepped back as a cloud burst out - no, not a cloud, a swarm.

They had prepared for this though. Every medic had on a gasmask, so when the anaesthesiologist opened a gas bottle into the air, they were safe, while the thousands of insects drifted to the floor. Someone else had a net at the ready and scooped them up, then placed them in a tank.

"Forceps," the surgeon requested and a set were placed into his hand. Gently he moved into the patient, with the instrument and pulled out the mother Sephtinite, which was glowing gold. It was placed in a separate tank, and then the team were quick to get him stitched and closed up.  
>"Now bring him round and get blood into him and fluids," the surgeon ordered. Doing as they were asked, the medics got to work.<p>

"He's not waking up," said the anaesthesiologist, who had been slapping the patient's face gently and calling his name.  
>"He's lost a lot of blood. Wait for the transfusion. He might just come round," said another medic.<br>Someone checked his pupils, to find them dilated and still.  
>"I can't get a vein," admitted the medic, trying to start the transfusion. "He's too dehydrated."<br>Then an alarm rang out, indicating his one working heart had stopped. Thinking fast, someone took up a large needle and plunged it into the patient's still heart.

* * *

><p>The Doctor came to with a gasp. Both his eyes snapped open and the fast beeps from somewhere seemed to be tracking a heart-beat. Above him was a blurred face.<p>

"Welcome back John," said the face. "You've been in surgery. We're about to move you into recovery, but first you need to try and drink some water, alright?"

The Doctor hurt a lot, but he was very thirsty. Some arms helped him up and a cup of water held in front of him. Slightly reluctantly he let the straw meet his lips and let the liquid flow in. At first it was painful as he tried to swallow, but he soon became thankful as the cool water soothed his sore dry throat.

When he finished the cup, he retched a bit, but nothing came up. Then he lay back down. He felt a needle go into him, but he did not mind, as it was nothing compared to the rest of the pain he felt. Then suddenly any pain was gone. He felt himself go sleepy as he was carted away to a different room.

**[A/N: I guess my story has gone a bit Mpreg, not originally my intention as such, but at least the bugs are out of him now.]**


	16. Hang in There

[A/N:I've been helping 'TheMysteriousComicGeek' with her story, 'Roots of Destruction' (sequel to 'The Underground') and been obsessively reading the writing of 'unslinky' on Teaspoon. In the process, I've neglected posting chapters from my own story.

There's quite a few chapters to go yet and I've began a business admin/computing course, but I will have this finished eventually, I promise!

So, don't mind me, while I casually drop this chapter here and then skip back away into sunset ..until next time.]

"How is he?" Donna demanded to know, as soon as the first medic came out of the operating room.

"He's very weak, Your Majesty. He seemed to have a reaction to the anaesthetic - as his heart stopped."

"He what?!"

"We revived him, your Majesty. He is stable now and in recovery."

Taking a few deep breaths, Donna looked around.

Molly, that evil Professor's accomplice was giving statements to the authorities and was going to assist in the apprehension of Moore, before she would face her own charges.  
>Lloyd had gone to get them something to eat and contact his family.<br>The Doctor had been in surgery a long time and Donna had remained outside the operating room the entire time, worrying and biting her nails.

Her Spaceman had literally died. Both his hearts had been stopped. She was supposed to be looking after him. How could she have let any of this happen?  
>The incident with the creature, leaving him alone to cut himself up, allowing him to be kidnapped and tortured – all of it was her fault. She should have been watching out for the stupid outer space dunce more. The only reason that he was still somewhat alive was because of these complete strangers she had put all her trust in.<p>

The medic was not stunned when the visiting Royalty slumped forward into his arms. He was used to dealing with upset family members and those going through grief. He tried to stay professional and simply patted her back, while she sobbed. He was relieved though, when that guard friend of hers turned up at the end of the hall and he was able to transfer the Royalty from his arms, to Lloyd's.

"Hey, Donna. Shh.. hey, hey. It's alright. I've got ya. Lloyd's got ya," the guard hushed, until Donna was able to regain enough composure to look up at him. "What's all this about, eh?" He wondered, lifting Donna's chin up and brushing a tear from her cheek.

"I- I- ..oh Lloyd. He died. The Doctor died. They revived him, but he died. Both his hearts were stopped."

From what Lloyd was hearing, he could not yet tell if Donna was telling him that her friend was alive or deceased. He only knew that she needed comfort and provided her with just that. Embracing her tight, he told her,

"Oh, Donna, It's okay. There's nothing you could've done. It will be alright."

If the alien had died, surely this was murder? He had met murderers before. He worked in a prison cell, after all. That did not make him feel any the more sensitive to the sadistic souls. And if he was still alive, he had been tortured to an inch of his life. The mad women that had inflicted such cruelty would surely have hell to pay.

"If you'll follow me, I can go through his condition with you?" The medic stated.

Nodding their replies, Donna and Lloyd shuffled in their embrace, towards where the Doctor was recovering.  
>It was a private room, with a screen surrounding a single bed. When the medic pulled this back, Lloyd finally knew, for sure, that the alien still clung onto life – though, barely.<br>A fast-acting drip was getting a clear fluid into him, while another contained some kind of nutrient and a third provided medication. The wounds from his torture had been cleaned and bandaged, but he knew they were still there.

Surely, even for another species, he should have more colour in his face, than what the pale complexion he presented? Everything about the guy spoke 'pallid' and 'sick'. The amount of surgical incisions that scarred his abdomen was worrisome, but it was being kept clean and covered also. Machines measured his vitals, all of which seemed stable, but significantly changed from what had read before his capture.  
>Lloyd felt the ginger's hand tighten around his. He squeezed back.<p>

"The insect and its offspring have been removed and won't be bothering him anymore," the Medic assured.

Donna let out a breath of relief at this.  
>Finally, that monstrosity was out. She hated thinking of there being something living inside her friend, killing him from the inside out. It was less one thing her Spaceman had to worry about, or take care of. He had people here to look after him.<br>"He will need some time to heal and recuperate though. We've got him on strong pain killers. Obviously, he can survive with one heart beating, as he has already shown us. However, this is likely to be putting quite a strain on his body and be painful.

"Whilst in our care, he's not yet had a conscious enough moment to tell us how he is feeling. Once he has rested from this last surgery, we will try and decrease some of the drugs, so that he may be able to come round enough to give us some more insight to his physiology. Also law enforcement want to question him."

"The coppers want to talk to him?"

"Apparently he was conscious for some of his kidnapping, according to the lab assistant. He may be able to recount some of his experiences, which will be useful for the trial."

"Trial?" Donna probed.

"There is very likely to be one, especially since the Medical centre is involved. As you can imagine, it is somewhat of a hindrance to have this kind of incident on our record."

"Of course," accepted Donna, though she could not help but ponder what The Doctor would think of that. Well, she knew. He would want to be off in his TARDIS as soon as possible. He never got involved in the legal technicality side of events.

But he had been conscious? That worried her. The Doctor had been through enough in the past couple of days, without having been kidnapped and tortured. She was not sure what to expect when they did finally wake him up properly. Sure, he was sick now, but what kind of condition was he going to be in mentally? She promised herself that she would be there for The Doctor, to hold his hand, no matter what he went through next.

Maybe now was a good chance for him to slow down anyway. Everything had been so fast-paced up until recently, which was all well and good. But it was often when things got like this, that The Doctor would make mistakes. He bloody swallowed a fly, for crying out loud!  
>That is how all this started. At least it was gone now though. Hopefully, together, they could move on from this nightmare.<br>Perhaps he would even learn a lesson, to keep that gob of his shut, once in a while. That is, he is not left traumatised by what had happened since.


	17. Home is Where the Heart is

**[A/N: Thanks to those who are sticking by me with this story and reviewing. It gives me the confidence to keep going.]**

As the prison guard and the ginger waited at The Doctor's bedside, they chatted to each other.

"I called my family," Lloyd informed Donna. "They've been through it themselves. Law enforcement had been at my house, while we were still labelled as wanted criminals. My kids have been frightened and my husband, Clarke, is distraught. Thankfully, everything's been cleared up now, with that psychic paper of yours. They want me to come home though."

"Of course, all the decent men are on the other bus," mentioned Donna.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Nothing," she responded, "Where's home then?"

"We live on the outskirts," Lloyd explained. It's not quite as posh as this inner-city shopping complex you've seen. We're doing rough out there. Crime is at an all-time high. I usually try and bring something back for the wee ones, whenever I come home."  
>Donna smiled at this. For a prison guard, Lloyd was incredibly sweet.<br>"I haven't exactly been home in a while." He admitted. "I tend to do the triple shifts, get as much dough as I can, on a guard's salary, before returning to them.  
>One day, I'll live out this way, with the tops. Sleeping rough in a guard's chamber is the closest I can get. My kids deserve better. They're good kids. And they miss me. On the nights I do get to come home, they love getting a bed-time story.<br>I feel awfully guilty, not returning to them," Lloyd continued. "But I feel somewhat responsible for what happens to you and your friend now though."

"My dad used to read to me too," Donna mentioned. "I had books of fairy-tales and one of my favourites was The Elves and the Shoemaker. The book was illustrated with the most glorious pair of shoes ever. In fact, the ones I saw in that shop reminded me of them - of my dad. I knew I had to get them. He's not around any more He was a great father though. I miss him every day."  
>Lloyd welled up a little, when Donna spoke of her father. He hoped his children loved him that much, even though he was hardly ever home to be a proper father to them.<br>"It's lucky I still have Gramps at home. Both men have always been somewhat of a buffer between me and my mum." She chuckled half-heartedly. "She's never exactly been encouraging to me. It seems only more so, since Dad died.  
>It has been good to get away from the pressures of home. I know I've got a responsibility to my family though. I should be there for them more.<br>Gramps seems proud though. He's given his blessing. 'Go see the stars,' he told me. 'and then bring a bit of them back for your old Gramps'" Donna sighed. If The Doctor did not recover, how would he pilot the TARDIS and bring her back home?  
>"I am glad you're here, Lloyd. I am not sure what I would do without you. I am not used to being left on my own."<p>

Lloyd wrapped a hand around Donna's, squeezing it, reassuringly. "You aren't alone. Your friend will be fit again. Until then, I'm here. Got that?" Donna looked up into Lloyd's large, honest, pale grey eyes and nodded.

The two of them watched, as a medic entered and checked The Doctor over, before deciding they could reduce his drugs and move him back to his room.

It was half an hour later, when The Doctor first began to stir. Donna shifted closer to him, placing a hand to his cheek. He grumbled as his eyes flickered open.

"Hey," spoke Donna. "How are you feeling?" The Doctor only gasped and his heart rate accelerated as he tensed on the bed. Lloyd pushed the call button and medics came on the scene.

"Argh, Do-" he managed.

"What is it, Doctor?"

"Regen-.. Got to.." But his sentence was cut off by his own guttural moan, as he tensed even further.

A team of medics were now on the scene, assessing his condition and busying themselves.

"His heart is in overdrive."

"Blood pressure is soaring."

"He is at risk of internal bleeding again, if he goes on like this."

Donna was panicking, at the medic's words, worried for her Spaceman. One of the medics leant over the bed, telling The Doctor,

"John, you've got to keep still. You've had surgery," he was informed, calmly. "Take deep breaths." They advised and provided him with an oxygen mask.

The Doctor did not seem to be hearing them, let alone listening. His eyes wear glazed over with panic, as he kept struggling away, trying to pull the mask off, despite the little strength he had. Never had Donna seen The Doctor so scared and it hurt her.

"Can't you sedate him?"

"Not after his reaction before. Here is a painkiller though." As they drew up a syringe, they warned, "Sharp scratch, John." But The Doctor pulled his arm up and away, towards his chest, smacking the Medic off.

"Stop.. No more.. Hurts!" The Doctor complained, tears falling from his eyes.

"Doctor, look at me," Donna instructed. He turned his head sharply and tensed again as he did so. "Donna ..help. They're.. tor-.. turing me. I can't ..can't take it.. anymore." He whimpered.

"They're not torturing you. They are trying to help. Just breathe. Breathe with me, okay. Deep breaths." Donna took deep relaxing breaths, gesturing for The Doctor to do the same. "It's going to be alright. You're being looked after. You're safe."

A deep fear still nestled in the Time Lord's eyes, but he followed Donna's breathing pattern. Slowly, his heart rate and blood pressure were coming down.

"It hurts," he repeated.

"The medic here has a pain killer for you. They don't want to sedate you, because you went a bit, well, funny before."

"It might make you feel a bit out of it, but it won't send you to sleep." The medic disclosed.

The Doctor nodded - anything to be rid of the pain that was consuming him. Whatever had happened, it should not be hurting this much. The pain made him nauseous, but his stomach felt empty. He did not think he would even have anything to throw up.

The drug had been administered and a clear gel was now being smeared over the right side of his chest by a medic.

"What are you doing now?" Donna wanted to know.

"Preparation." they stated. A box was brought out, and the contents were hidden from Donna's view until they placed it over the gelled surface of The Doctor's chest. Purple in colour, it was illuminated with a pulsing glow. Over where his right heart should be, it had clamped on, through the skin. A medic took out a sterile rub and wiped away the few spots of blood from where the thing had been attached.

"What the hell is that?" Donna demanded, never having seen anything like it.

"It will help regulate his heartbeat, until he becomes strong enough to do it for himself.  
>We can't be sure of his response to sedation after what happened during surgery. We are still not sure why that happened, but it is possible his species can develop a resistance to it. He was fine during initial surgery.<br>We don't know if he was given anything during his incarceration that could be interacting with our drugs. They are working on a full- blood analysis now.  
>This device is something our planet has developed, to keep the heart at a resting pace, externally without administering sedation."<p>

"And is there a reason why you never put one on his other heart?"

"We did try your Majesty. However, it usually needs the heart to be beating already. It is a way of keeping the heart alive and maintained, not bringing back a dead heart. We were unable to get the left one restarted, even manually. It simply will not go.  
>He is surviving with just a right heart - as long as we keep that one beating well. We do not know how long he can manage like this though, as we are not familiar with his species.<br>He looks like a typical human externally, but we are aware of how this bi-pedal form is often replicated about the universe as a natural selection of many higher species."  
>The medic herself was scaly and orange. Like a human though, she had two arms, two legs, a body and a head, in all the normal places.<br>So far on this planet, Donna had seen just as many humans as aliens. Lloyd was human – although very big for one at that. She had more trust in this hospital, because of the wide range of species it had to treat and that it seemed more technologically developed than Earth. She if he would have even survived if they were on Earth.  
>"We know he is certainly not standard on the inside, that's for sure. We are trying our best to accommodate to his unique needs and are continuing to search for a way to make his heart work. For now, he is getting nutrients to prevent the tissue from dying." The medic gestured to the intravenous drip, hanging from the bedside and inserted to the back of The Doctor's right hand.<p>

Donna was slightly wary of touching the Doctor, but she laid a shaky hand over the left side of The Doctor's chest. It was unusual. Sometimes she forgot he was an alien that functioned so differently from humans. All instincts told her that she should be feeling a heart-beat there. She felt nothing, which up until now had always spelt death in any of her knowledge.  
>She analysed the device over the right heart. It definitely did not look like anything she had seen from her time, or even on Earth.<br>She knew there were ways of making a human heart beat - drugs, surgery, or electric shocks. How could she be in this far-flung hi-tech part of the universe and they couldn't get one measly heart to beat. How different could it be from a right-sided heart?

"Donna," the Doctor slurred.

"I'm here, Spaceman. It's okay."

"You oh-kay?" he asked.

"I'm fine, Doctor. You just get some rest."

There was some sort of commotion behind her though. A group of law enforcement officers were outside the room, seemingly trying to gain access from the medics that stood by the door. Donna looked towards Lloyd, who then got up and went to the doorway.  
>While the guard tried to reason with the orderlies and officers, Donna pushed the hair out of The Doctor's face. It had become matted with sweat from his previous exertion. His eyes were half-lidded, as if he was trying to figure out what was going on around him, but also fighting with sleep.<p>

Lloyd returned to the bedside with a medic and a couple of officers. He looked towards Donna, sheepishly, shrugging as if to communicate an 'I tried.'

In a deep authoritative voice, one of the officers informed,

"We've got some questions for John Smith."


	18. Risky Decisions

**[A/N: Good to hear my story is till being enjoyed. It has been in the making a while now and there's still a bit to come. I accept critique at any time.]**

"You can't possibly want to question him right now?" Donna shot, astounded. The Doctor was barely conscious and likely still in a world of pain. He was suffering enough right now, without having to deal with getting interrogated.

"It is protocol to question victims as soon as possible, for best results." The officer rationalized.

"I hardly think you are going to get any good results out of him right now. Look at him." Lloyd spoke up. The Doctor was silent, but not at all stoic. He was weak and by no means up to any kind of cross-examination.

"If we are to apprehend Professor Moore, we must have as much evidence as possible." The office was still trying to reason. Pulling up a chair to The Doctor's bed, the officer sat, leaving the other to stand and take notes.  
>"Mr Smith, I am Officer Stacy and this is my partner, Officer Hanson. We are from law enforcement and have some questions for you regarding the events of the past few hours."<p>

The Doctor blinked and turned to look at Donna. The movement sent him reeling and his eyes rolled in his head.

"Mr Smith, look at me," instructed Officer Stacy. "We need you to fit to answer us."

Begrudgingly, The Doctor stared up.

"What do you remember from your incarceration?"

"I.." The Doctor started, but he was grimacing again. "-can't"

Donna took one look at his heart monitor, to make sure the device was still doing its job. It was. However, he was in distress. Stepping in, she held his hand.

"Doct- um.. John, it's alright. You don't have to talk right now." Ever so slightly, the Time Lord's face dropped into a more relaxed state. Turning back to the two officers, Donna spoke, "Shove off and let him rest, won't you? That is a royal order."

The officers nodded and left the room, feeling intimidated.

"You're feeling quite unwell aren't you, Spaceman." Donna stated, stroking the damp hair from The Doctor's face. "And quite warm too. That's not right at all. Your skin is usually cooler than this. You've got a lower body temperature, don't you? That's really why you've never got decent heating in the TARDIS. I bet you're just getting yourself all worked up, aren't you? It is important that you just relax. I'll see if there's anything more they can do for you."  
>Donna was at the door when she told the guard, "Lloyd, stay with him, won't you? I'm going to see if we can get an ice-pack or something."<p>

Lloyd marvelled at how trusting Donna was and smiled at her. "Will do," he answered, then winked, adding a "Your Majesty". Obviously Donna felt at ease, leaving the room.

Unrelentingly, the two officers took this as their chance to question the patient some more.

"Can you tell us, Mr Smith, in what way did Professor Moore harm you?"

The Doctor was panting and sweating as he blearily looked up to see the uniformed officers. He quickly looked back down and grunted.

"Oi!" Lloyd bellowed to the stubborn law enforcers. "You had a royal order! Now shove off!"

Although looking slightly relieved at how Donna's guard friend had defended him, The Doctor winced at the harsh sound, as it painfully echoed around his skull. Nausea rose in his belly and not a second later he had vomited.

"Nurse!" Lloyd yelled, seeing a decline in the man he was supposed to be guarding.

As if he wasn't in enough pain from the way his abdominals were in spasm as he gagged, he threw up again as his skull pounded from the guard's second outburst. His vision was already greying around the edges and he welcomed the sweet release of unconsciousness as the orderlies worked to get him on his side.

Donna had been there in a flash, along with The Doctor's medical team, who were now working to get the Time Lord cleaned up and comfortable.  
>As though they needed any more encouragement to get out of that room, Law enforcement were ushered away by the medics and told not to come near the patient again until he was of confirmed health.<br>Trying, with deep breaths, Donna listened to the medic wielding an electronic clipboard, as he updated her on her friend's condition.

"His blood test results tell us he has been subjected to high levels of radiation, which has been absorbed by his body. Due to the nature of how it has been absorbed, he is at no risk of spreading the radiation, but it's affecting him." Donna nodded as much understanding as she could muster.

"The sample we took upon him being first admitted here revealed he has in his blood an unknown non-synthetic substance in his blood. Our last test however reveals no trace of it. Do you have any idea what this substance might be?" Donna shook her head. How was she supposed to know what was normal for him?

"We found only one drug in his system and that is an illegal mutation agent. It appears his cells have been scrambled by it, yet are normalising. It probably is the cause of the anaesthetic problem before. It will likely leave him feeling very fatigued and unwell. On top of that, he's also picked up an infection."

"His temperature is up. He's not usually this warm," added Donna.

An infection? The Doctor was always going on about how his immune system was superior and he never picked up infections. Was it another one of his stretched truths, or was something more serious going on?

"His temperature has risen since he was first admitted," the medic acknowledged. "Not by much though. That will be a combination of the radiation and infection. We need to get him irradiated and combat the infection with some medication."

"Well, he seems bloody well much hotter than he does when he's healthy." Donna was not going to let a bunch of alien doctors condescend her.

"It is possible he already had an unusually lower body temperature for the typical humanoid, which we did not detect. In this case, it is likely the infection was already beginning to take hold, before he was brought in. Our medical centre is a sterile environment. He certainly did not pick it up here."

Donna rolled her eyes at the medic's words and looked to the Doctor. Now breathing cleanly and free of vomit, he was beginning to rouse, as his eyes were being checked. His cry filled the room, as the light penetrated his retinas, closing them tightly.

"We're just checking your pupil response, John. You have a fever," The thrashing Doctor was informed.

"Your majesty, usually we would let the mutation agent wear off, before medicating him further, as he is at risk of further complications. However, we can't let that infection spread, or things could be even worse, especially so soon after invasive surgery. It is likely to infiltrate too many of his systems. Not to mention his abdominals can't take much more of this. We need your permission to use some extra strength antibiotics. Hopefully that will get him through it, without many problems."

"And what is the risk of that?"

"We should prepare for him to feel very ill. He may get worse, before he gets better. It is a common infection on this planet and only dangerous to those with already decreased immunity."

"He doesn't get sick." Donna repeated something The Doctor had told her before.

"If you'd come here, your majesty?" The medic ushered her over to have a closer look at The Doctor. They prised his eyelids open, emitting a snarl from the Time Lord, but revealing that his usually brown irises had changed to a shining purple. Even Lloyd gasped when he saw it.  
>"This only happens at an advanced stage of the infection. It is time to get these antibiotics into him, despite any risks." He pointed to some medication, being held at the ready. The polka-dotted, alien medic was eye to eye with Donna Noble. "For that, we need your consent."<p>

Out of desperation, the human woman nodded.

The medics worked about putting up yet another drip, this time containing the anti-biotic to combat the war raging within the Time Lord's body.


	19. Inertia

**[A/N: The writing bug must be back. Here is an update for you all.]**

"It's not died." The medical centre's lab technician gazed, fixated, at the subject.

"How's that possible?" Their colleague was baffled. "Professor Moore said it would have passed on by the time its eggs hatched."

The Sephtinite was buzzing about its glass case uncontrollably.

"Why hasn't it?" The techy shook their head, unknowingly.

"Is it supposed to be glowing that colour?" The insect was practically fizzing with a golden energy that smoked and wafted about the chamber it was kept in.

"We need an expert in here." There came a decision. By now, every mind they had available to them had been pushed together, to work out what had gone wrong. The simple medical professionals were at a loss. So out of their own depth, they proceeded to the head of medicine, with their request.

"Professor Moore was the only expert in her field." They were reminded of how the renowned scientist was on the run from the law after abusing their patient until near-death. John Smith's life was still in the balance, as complications had since arisen, that could be linked to the Sephtinite's survival.

"Well, we need second best then." The laboratory crew were desperate.

"Second best, you say?" The Head of Medicine thought a moment, and then pressed his comm. "Contact law enforcement. Get that Molly girl in here."

* * *

><p>'Extra strength', as the anti-biotics had been described was an accurate description. They were certainly having an immediate effect on the Time Lord. The medics told her it was positive, but to Donna, it did not look as much.<p>

The Doctor was writhing about, unaware and throwing up. His fever had risen. They took blood samples every hour though and supposedly he was showing improvement. It seemed backward to Donna. The medicine should be making him better. Surely this hospital had the medical advancements, so that he didn't become so ill like this?

Gently shushing the Time Lord as he moaned, Donna considered taking her Spaceman back to the TARDIS. It was the most futuristic, advanced thing she could think of. Surely, that sick room, she had found him in, had something that would do him more good than this place?  
>Running through her mind, were ways that she could get him safely moved. Perhaps Lloyd could help her? Neither of them were doctors though. What if they got him there, but couldn't use the TARDIS equipment and something else went wrong?<br>They would have to take him somewhere, where he could receive better care than this. She had piloted the ship with The Doctor's help before. The ship was sentient. She knew The Doctor communicated with her on some level. She and The Doctor had a connection. The TARDIS would know where to take him and how to help him, surely? She gripped The Doctor's sweaty palm, hoping he realised she had his best interests at heart.

* * *

><p>Bugs were crawling around inside him, sucking him dry. Attacking every one of his organs and feeding on them. And they were so hot! Then why was he shivering?<br>He had to get rid of the bugs. They were crawling over him too, scuttling, digging in the points of their feet. His body felt heavy, but he wriggled and thrashed, hoping he could shake them loose.  
>They had wings and they were fluttering in his vision, so he couldn't see anything properly. He didn't know where he was. But it felt like he had fallen into a nest, hosting a colony of the deadly little creatures. He felt around for something, he could use to climb out. There were so many of them though, the weight pinned him down. He was going to drown in a swarm of them.<br>Bugs came pouring out of his mouth. That's it! He would get rid of them all that way. Get the bugs out. He purged and purged, until he was sure there could no longer be any bugs left inside him. But still, he could feel them in his stomach. Like butterflies, but with teeth. The bugs caused nasty stings to the inside of his limbs, as they crawled through, when they were already aching heavily.  
>Again and again, he winced. He only heard their feet scuttling, mandibles clicking, suckers puckering and wings flapping. He had no doubt they were coming in through his ears. They were in his head, flapping their terrible wings, causing sharp pains. He would swear on his TARDIS. They must be incising his very brain tissue!<br>How much longer could this go on? He was defenceless and he needed saving, for once. He wished a companion of his was nearby, would hear him and get him out, before it was too late.


	20. Progress

Planetary-wide law enforcement were hunting for Professor Moore. They had the young lab assistant, Molly Frame being interrogated. The girl was forth-coming enough, telling everything she knew. It seemed the Professor was very secretive in her life and her work, only keeping Molly around for assistance and doing the most hard-gruelling work of writing up experiments and testing. Professor Moore was very much about 'doing' the work and not writing about it. Unless, it was one of her 'confidential' assignments, in which case Molly was forbade to go anywhere near which a ten metre pole.

It seemed they had gotten all they could from her for now. Further investigation would certainly be carried out into the Professor's work. They would certainly be speaking to Miss Frame again. Right now, she was being escorted back to the Medical Centre for help on John Smith's case. It was heard he was very ill and that it could be linked to the Sephtinite. Until, Professor Moore was apprehended, Molly was perhaps the only one that could shed light on what may well have become a life or death situation.

Despite being treated unfairly, Molly had tried to keep a level of respect for the superior scientist – though it had definitely now wavered. What she had done to that man was evil and it made her wonder what the Professor had been hiding. She would put it right.

The looks she got from people were different now. As she entered the medical labs, it seemed nobody would look in her in the eye, yet they were practically begging for her help. It didn't make Molly feel powerful. It made her feel sick to her stomach. For years now, she had worked under Professor Moore, aspiring to be like her. She realised now, she had been blinded by scientific achievement and her moral code torn by it. Now it was her worst fear, to ever become like that evil woman. She shook all the guilt out for now, focusing on the matter at hand.

On one side of the lab, was a tank full of Sephtinite offspring. And on the other, was the mother Sephtinite, alive and strong. It shiimmered with life. This was wrong. She knew that for sure. She had been allowed to bring her hand held computer with her and immediately began to access what she could of Moore's research into The Biology and Life-cycle of Extinct Indigifall Six Species. She would compare it to the medical lab data and what she and the professor found out during the time they spent alone with Mr John Smith.

Soon, she was running the show. She had her own lab assistants left right and centre, running tests, recording and researching data. She kept a look over their shoulders and answered questions, but she felt like she needed to be doing something practical too. She had the data from John Smith's blood tests, both from upon initial arrival and after he was kidnapped. She compared it with the hourly blood tests he was now having, since contracting Purocular Virus.

She knew he was on the most advanced form of immune system cleanser this medical centre had access to. It was safe to use, now that there was no other living species inside him. Well, if you don't count the one they had replaced it with. What was labelled as just another 'anti-biotic,' to patients, was another form of life, invisible to the human eye, but it devoured infections. It was a painful and unpleasant process for the patient to say the least, but safe, as they would flush out of the system, once there was nothing left to feed on. It was almost ironic that Professor Moore originally had a large hand in making it a treatment for humanoid species, many years ago. She had been a remarkable scientist. If they captured her, it would be a shame to lose any positive things she may have also gone on to do for medical science.

"What's this?" The data from his first blood test was odd to say the least. For a start, it had energy spikes like she had never seen before.

"An unknown substance," explained an assistant. "It was in his blood when he arrived. It's gone now though."

"Do we have a sample of it? Is there any more of that blood left?"

"We have half a vial, still."

"Please, I need it. Get it for me?" There was a desperation in Molly Frame's voice, but also a spark of fascination."

"Right away" said the assistant, not wanting to get on her bad side.

As the last of his kind, John Smith's blood was a resource they could not waste, but nobody was about to doubt the scientist's decisions.  
>The half-vial of blood was fetched and Molly Frame used a machine to filter the substance from the blood. She noticed, that while it shimmered gold, it was neither in quite a gas or liquid state. Opening a petri-dish, containing the common strain of Purocular, Molly mixed them together in a test tube and looked at it under a microscope. Sure enough, the virus was destroyed upon contact.<p>

"This is the key! This is John Smith's very own form of immune system." Everyone was paying close attention, but nobody smiled. The result was pleasing, yes, but they had a problem.

"There's none left though. He has none in his blood and you've used the last sample of it we have," a technician spoke up.

"I don't think so," Molly shook her head. "I think the Sephtinite has taken it from him."

All heads turned to what had become the elephant in the room. The insect was practically smashing itself into the walls of its tank, bursting with the energy, which John Smith needed to live.


	21. Too Soon

**[A/N: When the writing bug bites. It bites hard.]**

Donna was glad of the device attached to The Doctor's chest. Even she was sure that without it, that single heart would not be able to cope with the strain he was currently under. If it was not latched on, she was sure it could have slipped off with the amount he was sweating. They said it was good he was still sweating though. His body was still at least trying to cool itself down. Medics were checking him over, when Molly came in. Donna stood up immediately, outstretching her arms, protectively guarding her Spaceman.

"What are you doing here?" Donna spat. Lloyd coughed, getting Donna's attention and gestured to law enforcement officer that had come in also.

"It's okay. I'm here to help." She was indeed with a police officer, who nodded, telling Donna it was the truth. "There is an entire team in the lab here and they are working hard to find something that is going to help him heal. We have discovered that what he had in his blood before and is now missing, is actually his species' form of immune system. That is why he has gotten so sick. We are working to put it right though and give it back to him."

"How did he lose it in the first place then?" Donna wondered.

"As far as we can tell, when the Sephtinite was looking for a new host, it got much more than it bargained for in John here. As you will know, up until a few days ago, the Sephtinite was believed to be an extinct species. In our planet's history, the Blardiicore was its food source, a giant reptile. It was a prime candidate for feeding from, as it was hardly going to harm something so small.  
>At the top of the food chain, it was also the Sephtinite's means of incubating its eggs, because it was the safest animal to do so within, being the least likely to die before the offspring could hatch.<br>To the Blardiicore, the Sephtinite was hardly a parasite. In fact, the two specimens shared a symbiotic relationship. The Sephtinite actually assisted the Blardiicore's own breeding patterns. After the insect eggs hatched and the Sephtinite passed on, its body produced a pheromone that attracted a Blardiicore's mate, signalling its own breeding season and reproduction cycle. The evolution involved is fascinating, really, here have a look.."  
>Plucking a book out from under her arm, she held it out. Donna just gave the woman a cold stare, until the scientist hesitated, "I'll just leave it here then shall I?" placing the open book down on the small table, next to the medical cart.<br>"Anyway, John was unlucky in that the Sephtinite was trying to extract the nutrients it needed to lay and take care of its eggs inside him, though unable to find what it needed, it extracted something much more powerful. It used all the healing immune energy John had and stored it up. The insect should have died after the eggs hatched. It is still alive in our lab. The only reason is that it has the energy. We are conducting experiments on it to remove its energy and put back, so the other can live. Our test subject will die. The last of its kind and that is a risk we knew was coming anyway."

Donna was taking in this information as best she could for now, when all of a sudden, she was distracted by a small raspy voice.

"D- Don- ..nah" The Doctor choked out from the bed and his companion was at his side in a heartbeat. His sudden switch to awareness caught her off-guard. He had been in a haze for hours, neither quite asleep nor awake, as she sat by his bedside. The medics had just taken some blood and the Doctor seemed both confused and upset. Donna could tell it was difficult for him to form words in the state he was in right now, but he whined in a way that was filled with fear. He clung to her and shook his head, wincing as the movement caused the pain to spike.

"That's good," Donna told the woman, without looking up from The Doctor. "That you've made progress, but I think you'd better leave. You're doing him no good being here after what you did."

"Very well," Moly accepted "I'll send someone else in, when we have the work completed, or anything more of note." With that, she left the room, officer at her heel.

The Doctor shook in Donna's arms. When she pushed his hair back out of the way, he did not even protest. It seemed he was just grateful for the contact. No doubt her hand felt cool to his fevered flesh.

Lloyd watched, as Donna rocked her friend until The Doctor began to calm down and it seemed like he may have been nodding off for some sleep. Gently as she could, she made him comfortable, smoothing the damp wrinkled sheet down and planting a kiss to his forehead. Lloyd missed his husband and children. He wished this would be ending soon, so he could go home to his family.

"Let's have you better soon, Spaceman." Donna whispered. She was tired, bags hanging underneath her eyes. Lloyd offered to watch The Doctor for a while, while she got some sleep, promising to wake her if he needed anything. Donna agreed, but wasn't sure she could sleep just yet. As an afterthought, she took the book that had been left with her. She may as well use the time to understand what had happened to The Doctor a little better.

Molly had been delighted at the prospect of sharing the good news with Mr Smith's royal proxy. When she left the room, however, she mentally scolded herself for any expectations on her part that she would receive much thanks. If she was going to grant any satisfaction from what she was achieving, it would be back in the lab, so that's where she headed. When John was in the clear, then it would be cause for celebration and perhaps forgiveness.

**[A/N: Keep up the lovely review. I am doing the best to reply to them and answer any questions any of you have.]**


	22. Getting Places

**[A/N: Ah, the cursed 'science' part of Science-Fiction. I failed science at school. At least its still Fiction and I have a bit of license to do what I want here, heheh.]**

She could not bloody believe him! He got her side-tracked with a shopping trip, while he was in mortal peril and he had barely even bothered to take them anywhere new! Really though, he had simply jumped forward in time, to when there were city and shops. The TARDIS had literally not moved at all.

They were still on Indigifall Six, the very same planet where they had run through jungle from that enormous beast, before this all started. And what was more! It very creature, that damn fly should have impregnated in the first place, a Blardiicore. If that silly Martian had just kept his gob shut and not caught in the middle of those two creatures, racing towards each other, they could have avoided this whole situation. She thought about the way the beast had taken a whiff of The Doctor and scarpered. It had missed its chance to breed and was obviously miffed with that. It had not wanted to eat The Doctor, when it was supposed to be the biggest carnivore of the jungle. She guessed it didn't have the taste for Time Lord with insect stuffing.  
><em>And hmm, impregnated?<em> She repeated to herself. It was the first time she had thought about it that way. She could tease the Time Lord about it later though, when he was healthy again.

Where they were in time, both the Blardiicore and Sephtinite species should be long since extinct. The insect had been considering a pest, due to how they tended to swarm, much like locusts on Earth, destroying crops and livelihoods. Once excessive hunting of the reptile begun, it was only a matter of time, before there were none left and the Sephtinite followed with it.

Donna did not blame The Doctor, this time, for his poor piloting. He clearly had already been feeling bad then. She just wished he had been open about it at the time and not sent her off. She also wondered if their destination was really anything to do with The Doctor's influence at all.  
>They had landed in a place where the Sephtinite was studied and they had medicines and technology. Maybe it was the ancient ship's own way of providing help, when The Doctor was refusing to accept any. She laughed to herself. They were just as stubborn as each other! Laughter soon became tears again though.<p>

The Doctor was so broken without that healing energy. She thought about the marks and scars he had recently accumulated. They had been in their fair-share of mishaps together, but it was always The Doctor who ended up fixing or bandaging up Donna in the sick room. He Doctor always shrugged things off and never seemed to have so much as a lasting bruise. Yet, now when the orderlies had come and changed his bandaged, making sure wounds were clean, there was absolutely no healing of notice. She realised just how much the Time Lord depended on that energy and hoped the medics would find a way to get it back into him soon, so he could physically heal from all this.  
>She knew that even he must hate just how long he'd been stuck in bed for. That was another thing. He never slept as much as this. It was all backward and she hated it.<p>

Exhausted and curled up on a couch, she put down the text and let sleep take her, knowing The Doctor was being watched over by her new found friend and hopefully by the time she awoke, things would be looking at least slightly better.

* * *

><p>In order to even begin to remove the energy from The Sephtinite, they had to keep it still. Using the very same gas that had been used in the operating theatre to stop the swarm of offspring from escaping, they filled the tank. It was, in fact, mostly smoke and the simplest way of giving it a temporary sleep, without harming it for now. Not a second later, the Sephtinite lay at the bottom of the tank. It still had a life reading, but it was still. They took scans of its body in order to decide the best course of action. Under no circumstances could they allow the energy to be lost, or the consequences would be dire for John Smith.<p>

As an insect, The Sephtinite had neither lungs nor a heart, like John did. Dissecting it would be complicated and they would have to do everything under a microscope. In the tank, it was breathing a re-breathing the energy that surrounded it, now mixed with smoking gas, using a respiratory system, consisting of tubes and sacks, delivering air to its tissues through its trachea.

From the readings they had recorded, most of the regenerative energy was concentrated within its 'heart.' Its circulatory system did not carry oxygen and was a basically a tube that ran through most of its body and contracted like a muscle, delivering nutrients, hormones and in this case, regenerative energy, throughout its systems.

After much discussion, it was decided to use a tiny needle incising the circulatory tube, extract the energy and deliver it directly into John Smith's blood, in a transfusion. Any excess energy could be re-breathed from the tank through directly into his lungs via the ventilator, which they would attach for him once more. It was the most optimum way they could deduct, that not a particle would be wasted. By flooding both his circulatory and respiratory system, hopefully his body would re-assimilate it and use it to heal and recover.


	23. Awol

Lloyd watched as Donna and her Doctor slept. They seemed peaceful enough. Lloyd, himself was tired. He thought there was no harm in grabbing a little something to perk himself up and perhaps contacting his family again. He was not leaving the alien alone, however. Donna was nearby, asleep on the couch. He got up and stretched. He had need to pee for a while now. The rhythmic dripping sound of medication and The Doctor's own full catheter bag in sight was not helping. He would get that out of the way too. As a guard, he knew not to leave his post though. He would speak to an orderly on his way out. Donna was finally getting some much needed rest and he was not about to disturb her from it.

His height meant he was used to ducking his head under many a doorway. As he left the room, he just about bumped into an orderly, wielding a needle, to take The Doctor's hourly blood test. He counted himself lucky as when he had stood up, he realised just how busting he truly was.

"Just popping out for a moment," Lloyd explained, pointing a thumb down the hallway. "Could you?" he gestured to the man on the bed. The orderly nodded his understanding. Keen for relief, Lloyd hobbled down the hallway and towards the loo.

You know that feeling when you have being holding for ages and you finally get to pee and it is the sweetest of sensations? That. Washing his hands, he splashed some water in his face, eyeing himself up in the mirror. Definitely, he needed a caffeine boost and soon. He appeared as a zombie. It was difficult keeping his eyes open. He did not want to seem tired, when he spoke to his husband, least he get worried.

There was a machine on the floor, that produced an average-tasting cup of joe. It would be a bit too far, to head down the cafeteria for something more decent. Putting credit in the machine, he waited as it whirred and spat out the sludge that would just have to do for now. Once he had gulped it back, the call system on the wall beckoned to him. He took a moment to smooth his short hair down, entered yet more credit and tapped in the number for home.

On the screen, Clarke's image flashed up, in all his big eyed, defined cheekbone glory. He must have showered recently, as his blue hair was slicked back and dark. He had Kyro in his arms and looked a bit haggard himself.

"Oh, Lloyd, thank goodness. You know I really don't like having to see those damned green crescents showing on the call system every time you call. It worries me to death. When are you coming home?"

"I don't know Clarke. I'm sure it won't be much longer." Clarke bobbed the child in his arms as it moaned.

"How are the kids doing then?" Lloyd enquired.

"Kyro is running a fever. He had a nightmare," Clarke sighed.

"Aw, did you have a scary dream, big boy?" Lloyd cooed. The child turned in Clarke's arms to face Lloyd. He was rubbing his face, with a chubby hand, when he took it away and looked up, Lloyd could see his son's usually grey skin was flushed and both eyes were tinged lilac.

"Have you taken him for a check-up?" Lloyd pressed.

"No need. It's just your run-of-the-mill Purple-Eye. His fever will break and he'll be back to running around, causing trouble in no time. He's just a sad sook right now, aren't ya boy? Are you going to say hi to Daddy?" The child shook his head, burying his face back into Clarke's shoulder. The fathers shared a chuckle. "How's this 'John Smith' then? We haven't heard anything more from the news report, except they still haven't captured that mad woman. And how is it being with royalty?" the man winked.

Lloyd had looked bereft at the thought of his son not wanting to talk to him. He really should be spending more time with his children, while he could. He laughed though, at the mention of Donna being royalty again. That psychic paper was really something to have fool people so easily. Of course, he had been open with husband, with what was truly going on, right down to the box that was bigger on the inside.

"Donna's just great, Clarke. She needs a hand to hold right now though. The Doctor is still in a bad way. The guy has had a parasite eating at him and laying eggs, he attempted to remove it on his own by slicing himself open, he's been kidnapped, tortured, had extensive surgeries, he's running on one heart, when it should be two for his species." Lloyd reminded his other half of what The Time Lord had been through, adding, "On top of that he's got a case of the Purple-Eye himself - except it's quite serious, as his immune systems caput. Luckily the air in this place is sterile. He must've caught it when he was outside. It's going around again, isn't it?"

Clarke nodded. "I feel fine though and so are the other three. What about you though, Lloyd? How are you doing? You've already been working yourself into the ground lately, you must be exhausted."

Lloyd smiled. "I'm fine," he said. "I probably just need another coffee. Anyway, I'd better get back to them. The medicine they've got this guy on is taking its toll. He shouldn't be alone for long. Donna's having a sleep and there was a medic in with The Doctor, before, but I am sure they are busy and have other things to be getting on with. Anyway, he could be on his own now and needs a guard."

"You go guard him, big guy," Clarke instructed. "Take good care of Donna, but look after yourself too, Lloyd. You know sometimes I think you're just a bit too selfless in the way you care for others."

"I've been neglecting you lot," Lloyd admitted.

"You're doing what you must. Now, get back to it. I need to get this one back to bed. I think he's had enough cuddles to take the nightmares away now."

"See you later then."

"See you." Blowing kisses, they logged off the call system.

Lloyd felt better for catching up with his family. He still however, felt caught between responsibilities. He did know he should take better care of himself, Clarke's concern was enough to tell him that. He had a spare change of clothes at the station. Maybe he could at least pick those up and freshen up a bit? He knew that Donna's shopping was there too, after being confiscated upon her confinement. He could get that too and she could change into something new.

For now, He focused on just getting back to the room. Though, as he got closer, he sensed something could be wrong. Piles of equipment were stacked up on trolleys outside the room with people gathered about. It looked like another procedure could be about to start.

"What's going on?" Lloyd wanted to know.

He had got to the door by now and everyone appeared worried. Donna was clearly wide awake, shoulders tense as she gestured wildly, yelling and at the orderly.

"How could you let this happen?!" She fumed.

"I was just taking some pre-procedure blood. The Time Lord over-powered me and got away, your majesty." The orderly had his head down, in shame.

"He's a sick, skinny streak of nothing!" Donna argued back.

The head of medicine was there, barking orders, next to the empty bed.

"Get security. Find John Smith immediately."


	24. Purple Haze

**[A/N: Hums to Jimi Hendrix..]**

Donna had been sleeping deeply and only a woken when a group of medics came in, pushing equipment lead by the head of medicine. An orderly had been found lying in a crumpled heap on the floor next to the bed. His head was bleeding a little. What concerned Donna most was that The Doctor was nowhere to be seen. Once it was made sure the orderly had merely been knocked out and could stand, Donna had a go at him and the rest of the staff.

Lloyd came in, who must have overheard them. The head of medicine was sending people to find the Time Lord. Donna hugged Lloyd tight. Glad to see him, but wondering where he had been, during the incident.

"What condition was he in, when he woke up?" The head asked, trying to ascertain the situation.

"His fever had spiked further." The orderly said, as the gash to his cranium was dabbed at and inspected by a medic, also making him sit down on the bed. "The anti-bionic.. er," he corrected himself. "-Biotics have been working to stop the infection and his body is fighting it, according to all the blood-work so far.  
>He was in pain and either having some kind of flash-back or hallucination. There must have been some sort of adrenaline spike involved, as even with the cardio-symbio-regulator, his heart rates were up and he displayed tremendous strength. I tried to calm him, but he grabbed me and knocked me down.<br>I can only assume he proceeded to rip the drip line and catheter away himself, before going walk about. He's at risk of tearing stitches and bleeding from the surgical repairs, being up and about like this." The orderly was breathing heavily now, clearly distressed. "I am sorry I let my guard down and let him escape. We have to find him, before he manages to harm himself any further."

* * *

><p>1926. That's when he had seen it. He met Agatha Christie at a garden party that day. But, there was that creature? It looked like the one in front of him now. The Vespiform was buzzing louder, as it got nearer, bearing its stinger towards him. All possibilities told him there could be poison in that sting and he had to get away.<p>

His body felt like lead, but as his hearts hammered, he found himself with a sudden energy. Grabbing the wasp by its leg, he forced the monster backward. It buzzed and hit the floor, turning silent. Even as he did so, he felt a tugging at the back of his hand. It irritated him and he ripped it away with his teeth, spitting the rubbery taste away.

Pushing himself up from where he was lying, he felt another tug, followed by a pang of pain, where pain should never be felt. And, oh, it stung! Surely, the Vespiform hadn't already stung him _there_? He would have to get it out, before any poison could get through. Gritting his teeth, with a yank, he removed it, careful not to make a sound, in case there were more of the giant wasps about.

There were fibrous layers constricting him, so he tore them up, discarding them. Now that he was free of anything keeping him in place, he shimmied up from where he lay. Leaning over was like a slice to his gut, but he crawled forward, coming to a ledge. It was hardly very high, so he swung his legs over, plopping down to what seemed, a stable enough surface to stand on. Once he was upright, everything spiralled out of focus and his knees trembled, threatening to buckle on him. However, it passed and his vision came together again to see his escape. A door stood in front of him. Focusing only on getting through that door, he pushed forward, on shaky legs, through pain and fear to find himself in a sort of tunnel. Everything was so purple-hued and wavy to look at. Everything had a weird smell here. This must be its nest.

Every step pained him, but he had to get away. When he met Agatha Christie, he was with Donna. Therefore, Donna must be about somewhere. Her safety had to be a priority. He considered calling for her, but did not want to attract any more unwelcome guests. He would look for ginger coloured things. That was always the easiest way to find her. How would he spot that beautiful hair, when everything was so purple though?

He had to get through this purple haze, if he was ever going to see anything properly. Putting his hands out in front of him, he rushed forward, as if to push the horrid colour away. Burning flames seemed to engulf him, so he tried to run through that too. If he just kept running, he could get to the other side, where he would be able to see and think straight. But his surroundings only became blurrier and the fire hotter. Going completely straight, was difficult, as there were rushes coming from all sides, buffeting him about, sending him sideways and knocking him over. And ow, his head? It was thumping out a tune of its own. Was he spinning?

_Purple haze all in my brain__  
>Lately things just don't seem the same<em>_  
>Actin' funny, but I don't know why<em>_  
>'Scuse me while I kiss the sky<em>

No. He was falling. The tunnel had moved around him and it had turned into a pit. He was falling into a pit and the pit was full of bugs. They crawled over him, until every inch of him was covered. They crawled over his eyes and through his nose. They were getting down his throat! Gagging, he tried to rid himself of the bugs. But there was already so many, deep inside him. Tearing their way into his organs, only to scuttle and wriggle back out, through muscle and skin. No matter how many he purged, more just came crawling back, through every entrance they could find. The bugs devoured him, until there was only blackness and no pain.

**[A/N: Reviews give my life meaning.]**


	25. Extraction

**[A/N: I just want to mention that I am incredibly excited about the BBC's announcement, that Peter Capaldi will be playing the Twelfth Doctor. I can already tell, he is going to fantastic justice to the role.**

** If The Doctor is ever to regenerate into a woman, I can bet you (if Steven 'The Fat' Moffat is still in charge by then)it will be the 13th regeneration. And that is from following the pattern of regenerations from his 1999 Red Nose Day special 'Doctor Who and the Curse of Fatal Death.'**

**Anyway.. onwards!]**

A high priority call was put out about the medical centre to find the 6ft 1 white skinned, brown haired, humanoid patient. He was potentially dangerous and upon sighting him, security must be notified.  
>It was late and many of the wards were quite, patients in bed. But it was not long before a report came in. A man matching the description had been seen stumbling about in one of the corridors, a couple of wards over, by a visitor, afraid to go near him. Following the lead and security footage, they got his location. A response team of security members and medics was sent out to retrieve him. Both Donna and Lloyd followed closely behind.<p>

The anticipation of finding The Doctor had Donna already in a panic. Thoughts flashed to how she had found him in the TARDIS, alone and suffering. She pushed it to the back of her mind and squeezed Lloyd's hand, as they ran through the maze of corridors. Had the Time Lord really gotten this far by himself?

"Somebody, help!" A voice cried out ahead. "This guy's collapsed over here!" The search party was drawn to a short blue plump lad, standing by himself in the middle of the corridor. "Through here," he motioned, with a bloody hand and led them through a doorway, to what seemed like a seldom used staircase. Donna's stomach made a nasty flip upon entering.

A flight down, was the Time Lord, lying, twisted, in an awkward position. He would have been starker's if it weren't for the pair of pants he wore - now blood-soaked. His abdominal wall had opened, spilling blood over the metal landing.  
>While his complexion was pale white, angry red scratches covered his body, mostly about his neck, shoulders, chest, stomach and fore-arms. The blood under the Time Lord's nails suggested the marks had been self-inflicted.<br>Next to him, in a puddle of suspiciously red vomit, lay the purple pace-maker, as it were, discarded. The evidence of its removal had risen up in a vicious welt over his chest, also bleeding –though not as severely.  
>Apart from the way he was shaking and breathing, but only in ragged in-effective snatches, he was completely still and unconscious. It was clear, security would not be needed to restrain him. He was not a threat to anyone. The man simply needed help.<p>

The medics crouched down beside him, inspecting and applying pressure to his wounds and checking his vitals. A mask was slipped over his face, delivering oxygen on full force. Because it seemed he had fallen, they had to scan him for neck and spinal injury or fractures, before they could think about moving him.

"Can I get a cauterising gun on this?" requested the medic, applying strips of gauze to soak up blood, while trying to maintain a pressure on the wound with his other palm.  
>A device that indeed looked like a gun was placed in his hand. Lifting pressure off it just long enough, he stuck its barrel right inside the wound, pulled the trigger and stuck a gauze pad over it for now.<br>He spoke into a communicator, "We've got him. And I don't think he's just pulled the stitches here again. This is going to need more surgery. Have an O.R. prepped and surgical team on standby."

The medic running the portable scanner reported, "There's a crack to his skull and some brain swelling. He's going to at least have a minor concussion from that. Some bruises to the rib cage. His shoulder is out of alignment. There doesn't appear to be any resulting fractures."

"I think his oxygen stats are as high as they are going to get," the medic monitoring his vitals suggested. He had already attached an ambu-bag to the mask, squeezing it at a controlled pace, so The Doctor could take efficient breaths. "His heart rate is low and the device is dead. Get another one on him, his shoulder back in and strapped. Then we will get him on a stretcher and into surgery."

"You can't anaesthetise him though?" Donna questioned. She had remained at the top of the staircase, not wanting to get in the way, but watching and listening to the medical response team intently as they worked.  
>Their kit had one of those purple things. For the second time they spread that slimy gel and put the weird heart beater in place.<br>Two of them pulled and yanked on him in unison, slotting his shoulder back to where it should be. The action looked incredibly painful. Had he been conscious, Donna was sure her Spaceman would have complained like there was no tomorrow.

"We are going to have to," the medic told honestly, as The Doctor was strapped up. "With the heart-regulator on this time, he should be safe. As added precaution, we will have him fully ventilated."

"And while we do? Why don't we kill birds with one stone?" A voice had come up behind Donna. Molly frame, clad in her white lab coat, had her arms folded, scrutinizing the scene below. "We will bring the Sephtinite in with its tank and transfuse the energy back at the same time. I don't think he will survive much more damage without the energy back."

The medics nodded their understanding. On the count of three, the medics lifted The Doctor's dead weight onto a stretcher and carried him back up the stairs.

Donna followed Molly, as she fled back to her team. Her loud and quick demanding got her a rushed explanation of what had been planned, while the array of required equipment was transferred from John Smith's room and to the surgical floor.

Lloyd remained at The Doctor's side, worry deep in his eyes, as the party travelled down, in the elevator, through double doors and corridors, until his citizen status no longer permitted him to go any further, without risking sterility protocol.

* * *

><p>The Time Lord had been in no condition to be up and about. Absolutely no healing had commenced to his damaged body. Without the correct energy, he could not even regenerate tissue. The surgeons had to find the source of internal bleeding, re-cauterise, repair it and make a whole new set of stitches. The Time Lord was showing signs of anaemia, which they counteracted using more species-wide plasma, having no blood to transfuse, apart from the vials they had taken for testing. His heart had a regular rhythm, with the new symbio-attachment. As a species that should function with two beating hearts, however, he definitely was not in a fit state to be gallivanting through the halls and tumbling down staircases.<p>

There were two teams of medical staff in the operating theatre. One group stood around John Smith. An anaesthesiologist was keeping a close eye on every minor change in the patient's condition, medics were handing instruments and suctioning away blood, while a surgeon expertly located the bleed, re cauterised and stitched with precision on organs, muscle and finally skin.

The second team were more scientifically skilled and had a much smaller subject to work on. Inside its tank, the Sephtinite had been subdued with a smoke machine. It lay, unmoving.  
>Molly Frame led the procedure. By manipulating a mechanical tool from the outside, so as not breach the containment, she would make the pin prick incision, into its long, thin circulatory organ.<br>A specially designed vacuum system would take it up through a tube, into a direct cardiac transfusion for John Smith.

The removed heart regulator had left a convenient pathway, so they did not have to perform too much extra surgery, but could snake a direct line beneath the new attachment and pump the energy through. The new heart regulator would ensure the transfusion was pumped efficiently through his body.  
>A second system had been connected at the ready to John Smith's ventilator. With the turn of a tap, his lungs would be receiving directly regenerative energy-infused oxygen, filtered from any harmful smoke or toxins the Sephtinite may give off.<p>

A third group of medical professionals watched on from the observation room above the theatre, at the Time Lord's prone body. It was a medical first and a unique situation that many were not going to pass up the chance to witness and study for themselves. As soon as the unusual patient had been broadcasted about, it had attracted attention and people of different degrees of expertise had even travelled to be at the medical centre, during John Smith's admittance.

Once she learned exactly what they had been about to do, Donna had used her psychic paper-found authority to get herself in that room. Having to see witness their action, first-hand, instead of relying on blind trust. A reluctant Lloyd accompanied her, as back-up.

Neither of them had ever seen somebody being operated on and they both felt a little bit sick watching. Squeezing each other's hands, they battled against the nausea and provided support. Donna hoped that this would be last time The Doctor would have to be on that table - his life in the hands of others. Hopefully this was the breakthrough they had been waiting for, no further complications would arise with his health and he could recover from all this.

By the time the Sephtinite's team had all the necessary preparations done, The Doctor had been just about stabilised and closed up. The ventilator had been switched over to the energy-air. Even as it was rhythmically forced into his lungs, evidence of his condition changing was beginning to show, as his vitals wavered. Though they could only hope it was a good sign.

Molly Frame manipulated the minuscule needle down into the Sephtinite. Nobody knew quite what to expect, but prepared themselves for some kind of explosion or burst of energy. A screen showed, in an extreme close-up, exactly what was happening.

The needle breached the glowing insect's body, but nothing happened. It seemed almost anti-climactic. The scientist did not continue to program the needle downwards and actually stepped back from the controls. Everyone looked at each other, unsure. The comm on the wall was clicked and buzzed down to the theatre.

"What's the hold up, Frame?" The head of medicine asked.

"I can't get the needle through," the young woman panicked.


	26. Unsustainable

**[A/N: For the Guest that commented.._"For the sake of Christ, check the X-RAY. Two hearts." - _They know he has two hearts, but they haven't been able to get it to work for quite some time now.**

**For this chapter, I recommend listening to Muse's '_Unsustainable_'. Because that is what I've called the chapter and because Muse.]**

"I should have seen this coming", Molly realised aloud. "The energy is so concentrated in the Sephtinite that any tiny cut will heal immediately, making it impenetrable, by our instruments."

"What do we do now then?" one of the medics asked the question on everybody's lips.

"How are John's stats?" Molly requested.

"Stabilised, but weak," informed the anaesthesiologist and continued to rattle of his stats. "His body is receiving the low-concentrate energy and all his vitals have been subdued, but not out of what seems to be his safety ranges. The ventilator and symbio-heart-regulator are still maintaining his breathing and heart rate." Molly listened intently, trying to make a decision.

"We're going to have to re-assess this. The energy vapours seem to be doing some good. We'll keep them linked up together, through the ventilator. We are going to have to come at this from a new angle, in order to get at the pure energy source."

They kept him unconscious, the mechanical click and whirr of the ventilator breathing for him, getting at least some from of the much needed energy into him. All the separate minds in the theatre were working away in silence, to figure out what should be the next plan of attack.

"What if we blow it up?" a technician suggested.

"I beg your pardon?"

"We blow up the Sephtinite," they repeated. "It is going to die without the energy anyway, so it's hardly a violation of the Endangered Species Act? We have its offspring in another tank. It will not be extinct. It is a sure fire way of opening it. No energy will be lost, as the tank will contain it."

"Professor Moore proved that the Sephtinite cannot be affected by electricity, chemicals, or radiation. Its lucky that it can still be subdued by smoke, like a regular insect." Molly Frame squashed the idea.

"What about a sudden extreme compression force?" offered another.

"What, like squishing it?" Someone else asked.

"Exactly, like that," they confirmed.

"That," replied Molly Frame, considering the option. "That just might work."

"We squish the bug!" exclaimed Donna, who had seized the comm. Eager to do something that would help "Anyone got a rolled up newspaper? I'll do it."

* * *

><p>All the care they had treated the creature with until now was out the window. The tank had air-locked compartments. Something heavy would have to be put through. The incision needle could be replaced with something of more size in weight, in the mechanical tools grip. Looking at the array of sterile surgical instruments, at their disposal, it was decided to use an orthopaedic mallet.<p>

Molly opened the hatch, placing the mallet in. Once it was closed, it quickly de-pressurised. Manipulating the surgical mechanism, she soon had the mallet in its grip. Imagining it was in her own hand, she channelled the anger she had at her former leading scientist. All the misery she had put the poor man through for this small insignificant insect. Raising the weighted head of the mallet, she swung it down on the prone life-form, crushing it dead.

Energy was already releasing quickly, turning into vapour. Quick about it, she got the needle, into the squished remains and the vacuum sucked the substance, through to where it was needed.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" the chief surgeon cried. The Time Lord's metabolism had sped up, with the rush of energy to his cardio-vascular system. With a choked gasp, muffled by the ventilation tube, he came to, on the operating table. His still-purple eyes were wide open. "Raise his dose," the surgeon ordered. His team was quick to comply and in a matter of seconds, he was out of it again. "That was a shock to his systems! We have rhythm in both hearts."

"Thank god!" relief washed over Donna at the news. At least she knew that two beating hearts was normal for him.

"Both hearts are accelerating. They're going at break-neck speed. His temperature is soaring. Blood pressure rising. Oxygen is over-saturated. What's going on here?"

Then The Doctor's slack body went suddenly rigid.

"He's seizing," someone commented, as his body began to jerk wildly. The medics were quick to pull away the trolleys of equipment, before they could be knocked over, by the patient's chaotic limbs.

Donna could barely watch as her beloved Spaceman flailed as if possessed and the medics were simply standing back and letting it happen.

"Do something!" she urged down into the comm. An orderly gently took her by the arm, explaining that they had to wait for it to stop, as they had no idea how his body would react to any anti-convulsant drugs right now and restraining him could cause further injury. It seemed backward to Donna, but they were the experts, right?

After a few minutes, he was still again. They checked and monitored his vitals, all of which were rapidly dropping. At first, it looked positive, but they continued to drop.

"He's going to crash," a medic exclaimed, pulling one of the trolleys back and taking out some equipment. By the time, he had been about to do anything though, The Doctor's figures had all levelled out to far below anything they had seen before. Everyone seemed to be a bit stunned by it.

"Hmm, looks like he has gone into some sort of hibernation." One of the medical experts on the observation deck spoke through the comm, seemingly fascinated.

"Can he continue to sustain that though? Run an EEG" the head of medicine insisted.

One of The Doctor's medics pulled a device down over his head. Wary of the area, that had been knocked on the stairs. No wound was visible from the surface, but they knew he had a skull fracture and the swollen area would be tender.

"His brain activity is indicating coma," they announced.

"But look at that," a medic lifted up the patient's arm, indicating to where some deep bruising had formed. Everyone looked on with astonishment, as before their eyes, it was turning yellow and decreasing in size. "He's done it! Mr Smith is healing."


	27. Awakening

**[A/N: Thank you again, readers, for your continued support. I never expected this story to become as big as it has done!]**

When all the energy had been assimilated in The Doctor's systems, the ventilator and energy line were both removed. The anaesthetic should have worn off by now, yet he remained unconscious. They were hesitant to give him a stimulant, less it disrupt the healing his body seemed to be undergoing, while he was comatose

Orderlies, medics and scientists had come to and fro from the room, documenting every single change closely. Donna was glad he was at least being monitored, but the depth they put into it felt more as if they not as if they studying him. It made Donna uneasy. She willed him to wake, so she could get him away from this place and continue to recover, where he would not be under the scrutiny of these people.

His dressings had been removed, to reveal any injuries he had collected were either completely diminished, or faded to light pink scarring. His body had rid itself of infection and his eyes were back to their healthy brown state. It was thought he would wake any time now, so Donna sat by his bedside, holding his hand, waiting for him to grasp it firmly in his own like he so often did, as they ran off for adventure.

"What will you do, when he is discharged?" Lloyd wondered when the room had vacated by officials for a few minutes.

"Take him back to his ship, I guess. Then maybe we'll go somewhere calm to relax for a while." Donna had milled around with the answer in her head, before responding. She was a little surprised by what came out next though "Maybe even home for a bit."  
>It was never exactly calm, returning home. If it were not for her Mother's dislike for her travelling companion and the arguments and lectures that always tended to ensue, she would probably do so more often. She missed her Gramps and could use some comfort from him. It had been tough dealing with everything by herself lately. Lloyd had been a godsend, but she still wanted her Gramps.<p>

"Where's home for you?" Lloyd asked this time.

"London," Donna didn't hesitate to answer.

"Never heard of it," Lloyd chuckled. The words that came out of this woman's mouth were always a surprise to him. He found her company refreshing and was glad of their friendship. It was just unfortunate that they could not have met under different circumstances.

"It's a long way from here," Donna sighed, thinking of Earth and how much she missed it.

"You're welcome to come and stay with us, if you need - until he's fit to travel so far?" Lloyd made an offer.

"That's very kind of you. Thank you." Donna told him, though she could not imagine The Doctor wanting to stick around to rest anywhere for too long. This must be the longest he's been still for some time now.

They watched the Time Lord some more. His eyes lids had been flickering, indicating his sleep was lightening and that he was probably dreaming. Donna hoped it was of something nice. God knows, he deserved a little escape from everything that had happened lately.  
>It seemed he was growing increasingly uncomfortable, as his muscles twitched and he squirmed about. Donna rubbed his palm rhythmically, in an attempt to keep him calm. Lloyd went out to get an orderly, now that it seemed The Doctor was definitely about to wake. The Doctor's own medical team were paged to his room. All of which were anxious to know how he would be, when he came round this time.<p>

For several more minutes, The Doctor groaned, before slowly blinking awake. The first thing he saw was white ceiling tiles. He felt a warm hand wrapped around his own and a familiar face moved into view. It was blurry and he couldn't get a good focus, but he knew who it must be.

"It's me, Doctor," her voice was quiet and soothing, as if she knew he had pounding headache. She squeezed his hand gently. He felt stiff and fatigued, but he managed to curl his finger back over his only anchor in the mix of confusion.

"I wasn't aware John Smith is a doctor?" another voice spoke, with peaked interest. One he was sure he had heard before. It belonged to a woman, but he could not for the life of him place where had heard it before. All he knew is that he did not entirely trust them. "He could provide much more insight on his biology to us, than I first thought. Do you think he would go through his test results with us?"

"Just hold your horses, lady. He's not even awake yet." The fiery ginger cut in. That temper of hers was endearing when it was not aimed at him, he realised. The very spark of her words gave him a comfort, he felt like he had been without for some time now. "How are you feeling, Spaceman? Do you know where you are?"

Two questions at once. He felt barrelled down by them, as he tried to place the words in his mind and what they might mean. It was like his thoughts were swimming in treacle. Everything felt slow and sluggish, something he definitely was not used to. He wanted to give her answer, he truly did, but he was not sure of himself or anything right now. Oh, he had drugs in his system - that was for sure. Why though? Sniffing, he got a strong whiff of disinfectant. He lay between thin sheets, on a mattress. Shifting his eyes around, he noticed a heart monitor, beeping away, as the green line rose in quadruple peaks. That at least was good. Whatever was wrong with him, he could remedy in the TARDIS. Right now he just wanted to get out of here. He really disliked hospitals. He moved to get up, grunting.

"Whoa there, Doctor," warned Donna. "I am not sure you should be trying to get up."

"Don' like 'ospitals. 'M fine," the Time Lord mumbled, continuing to struggle up. His voice felt raspy and he could have done with some water. It felt like something had been shoved down the back of his throat and although it was gone now, it left it feeling dry and sore. He could worry about that later though. For now, he simply swung both legs over the edge of the bed.

Dizziness overwhelmed The Doctor, when he fought to get up, leaving him to reel and then tumble. With strong arms, Lloyd caught him, before he could kiss the floor and before the medics were even close enough to intervene.

"Blimey," was all he managed to say, in between quickened breaths.

"You've been ill, Spaceman," Donna accounted. "And you're not quite recovered yet."

"He needs to get back into bed, stay there and rest for a while longer." A medic who was watching his blood pressure ordered. The Doctor scowled somewhat, but only continued to groan, with his head between his knees, as he tried to get his bearings. He was staring down at Donna's feet.

"Why are you only wearing one shoe?" he asked, of all things. She laughed and planted a kiss on the top of his head. He really was feeling better, wasn't he? The balmy Spaceman.


	28. With a Little Help from My Friends

**[A/N: The story isn't over yet! I've got a few loose ends to tie up.**

**I should also note that I've been busy, going over the beginning of the story, editing the paragraphs, especially around the dialogue, and putting those pesky commas at the end of speech, back inside the quotation marks, where they belong.  
><strong>** Hopefully, the structure I have begun to incorporate is more suitable and easier to read? If there's anything, I am still doing wrong, or that I've missed, please let me know, so I can correct it. Ta x**

**This chapter is also titled after a song. Its just easier to think of them that way okay. For anyone, oblivious its by The Beatles.]**

"Er, he's got the other one."

Donna pointed to the large grey humanoid, currently keeping The Doctor from falling. Gently, the guy leant The Doctor back against the bed and then lifted his guard issue trousers to show off his single footwear. The Doctor looked between the two of them, bemused.

"Aren't they the most terrific set of loafers you've ever seen?" the guard beamed.

"Loafers!" Donna exclaimed. "These are the finest pair of Arabian shoes, I've laid eyes on. Certainly not loafers, phfft!"

"Hand me them a moment," The Doctor requested, a quizzical look on his face. Lloyd and Donna both slipped off a shoe each and placed it in his lap. Picking them up, The Doctor turned the shoes around in his hand, bringing them up to his eye, inspecting them closely. He sniffed them and then swept his tongue along the sole. He made a face, as if it had not occurred to him, such an action would leave a bad taste. "Where's my screwdriver?"

"Uh, I'm not sure. When did you last have it?" Donna checked.

"It was in my trouser pocket?" The Doctor was pretty sure.

"We'll have Mr. Smith's personal items back please?" Donna asked a staff member standing by. "And if the rest of you could clear out? He and I need to speak privately."

"We do?" The Doctor watched as the staff followed Donna's orders so obediently and they were left alone, apart from the tall prison guard. He wondered what seemed to make him exempt from following the order. Were they prisoners? The guard was sharing Donna's shoes though, which made the situation all the more confusing.

"How much do you remember, from the past few days?" Donna probed.

"Days? Oh, uh, has it been that long?" The Doctor scratched the back of his head. "My time sense must be out of synch."

"I'd say so. What is the last thing you can remember?"

The Doctor thought about that for a minute. Everything seemed a bit of a haze to him. A painful haze, but the last thing he truly remembered clearly was being in the TARDIS med bay, trying to remove a parasite from his intestine, but it was going a bit wrong. He had been bleeding much more than he should have been and his regeneration ability wasn't compensating. He swallowed.

"Oh, blimey, I'm sorry, Donna. I'm so sorry."

"I'm not sure that's good enough. Do you know how worried I've been? You nearly died. In fact you did, when your hearts stopped."

"Both of them?" The Doctor checked.

"Yes. You've had dodgy tickers stopping and starting. Only one ended up working at all and they had to put some purple clamp on your chest, to stop that from going completely caput. They put this energy back into you and it got both of them beating together properly and healed up your injuries and got rid of the infection. Your eyes were purple."

"Really?" The Doctor's heart dropped to his stomach. He had been in bad shape. To lose his energy like that? A simple infection could have been his undoing. The energy was the key to maintaining his binary-vascular system, which in-turn assisted his regeneration and healing factor. With one heart and no energy, he may as well have been a meagre fragile human. He really could have died, without regenerating. He was lucky to be alive.

"Why didn't you tell me, you weren't feeling good? You just sauntered into the TARDIS on your own, thinking you'd cut yourself open and nothing would go wrong, did you?"

"Actually, yes. I didn't foresee any complications and I didn't want you to worry."

"Well that plan turned out bloody fantastic didn't it?" She slapped his arm. "You can always ask for help, you know. You can't fix everything on your own."

"I am used to taking care of my own health matters."

"You're not really a doctor though are you? You like to be called that, but you can't actually have a medical degree, if you think slicing yourself open, by yourself, is a good idea?"

"I may not be a doctor, Donna, but I am _The_ Doctor. I've been around long enough and had certainly had my moments when it comes to medicine."

"Still though, can you admit that sometimes The Doctor might just need a doctor?"

"Look, I've not had a good history with hospitals. Anyone who would know how to treat me properly is gone. Exterminated in the war. As the last of my kind, by default, I am the only one who can handle my health care properly."

Donna knew it was tough for her Spaceman to talk about his people. He could see pain in his eyes, when he did. And it had nothing to do with his physical condition. She could tell, by the state he was in, that if she pressed the matter much further right now, she was likely to become agitated.

"What about what they've got you on right now then?" She pointed to the drip, feeding into his arm.

The Doctor followed the line, to its source and inspected the bag. His glasses had been brought in with his things too and he donned them. He scanned the fluid with his screwdriver for good measure.

"This won't do me much harm," he conceded. "Acetylsalicylic-free pain killer and nutrients," he nodded at that, but noted, "Dosage is a tad on the high side, could use more potassium. There's plenty of stuff in here that won't be doing anything at all. In fact none of it is really necessary." He pulled the IV out, casting it aside.  
>Donna watched, as the final thing her friend had been hooked up to, fell to the floor. It seemed like a silly thing to be doing, but she trusted his judgement.<p>

"They had you on more things before, like this fake blood stuff, but when you were in a coma, your body was healing and replacing things so fast, they didn't have to hook you up to so many things. It was scary whenever they had that machine breathing for you. Just, don't you ever do that to me again, understand?"

"I am sorry, Donna. I didn't mean for any of this to happen. It must have been frightening to deal with this and look after me on your own." He looked to her, proudly. She had certainly ventured well out of her comfort zone and was doing just fine. He reached up, with a now drip-less arm and cupped her face with his hand. "You've done brilliantly."

"Well, I haven't been completely alone," Donna admonished, looking over at her latest partner in crime. "Lloyd here has been amazing. He helped get me out of prison. I took him back to the TARDIS with me, but that was when we found you, half-dead. He was the one who got you medical attention and has been by my side ever since."

"You were in prison?" The Doctor picked out.

"Um, yeah. You didn't give me enough credit and I really wanted these shoes, so I sort of um.. nicked them." She confessed, sheepishly.

"You didn't?" The Doctor smirked.

"They are one great pair of shoes. They were the reason I even got Lloyd to help bust me out of the slammer. We wound up sharing them. To be honest, I haven't really thought about them at all, since you've been in danger. I can't believe, I have been wondering about in one shoe for so long!"

The Doctor took in how comfortable Lloyd and Donna seemed around each other. He felt silly to have ever thought they were criminals, under his guard. The guy's size would have been threatening, if it weren't for his gentle demeanour. The two of them were at ease though and even had their arms around each other.

"They are beautiful though," Donna was looking at the shoes again. "They're just like the illustration from the story book Dad used to read to me. I always admired them in that picture. I've got fond memories of Dad reading me 'The Elves and the Shoemaker'. Do you know it, the one where the poor old man has no money, but elves come in the night and make shoes and he can afford to eat and pay rent again?"

"Do I know it?" The Doctor bounced a little, in his bed. "They weren't elves at all, actually, but Fleebs, who's ship had been shot down by their enemy and crash landed on Earth. They used their evolutionary developed telekinesis to create items much bigger than them, such as human footwear. They helped out the shoemaker in exchange for his protection, until they could repair their ship. Without it, they were vulnerable to attack."

Sometimes, Donna thought there were things she would rather not learn. That story was filled with magic and a nice memory with her father. Now, the bloody Martian had gone and made it all sci-fi and ruined it for her.

An orderly came in with The Doctor's clothing. He beamed and thanked them, before they exited once more. Digging out his sonic, he changed the settings over and aimed the tool at the shoes. They seemed to flicker, like a bad television signal and then they changed into a couple of grubby looking boots.

"What the-" Donna started. The dunce had just transferred her beautiful shoes into something one might find strung over a power line.

"A perception filter?" Lloyd gasped.

"Yup," The Doctor popped the 'p'. "And that's not all." He fiddled with the screwdriver a little more and pulled out a flat disk from inside the shoe.

"What is that?" Donna asked. The Doctor stuck his sonic out at Donna, buzzing it down her body. "Oi, Space-dunce, what have I bloody told you about bleeping me?"

"Donna," he looked at her seriously. "This is a drug-release. Not only has your visual perception of these shoes been altered, your hormones have too. You've been scammed here. You've both been wearing old boots all along, fooled to believe they were the shoes you most ultimately desired.

"What did you see then?"

"Oh, Converse, of course!" He indicated to his own pair of cream coloured trainers, now placed at the end of the bed.

"Those are nice shoes." Lloyd admitted.

"Best footwear in this universe," The Doctor winked back at him.

"My kids don't even have shoes. They are luxuries we just can't afford. I thought that when Donna offered me the pair, we could replicate them and sell them. I could make money and afford to support my family. Too bad Donna isn't really a wealthy queen. Could have gotten a reward for all this good Samaritan work, eh?"

"Wealthy queen? What?" The Doctor burst out in giggles.

"We were under arrest for theft and prison escape," reminded Donna. "I had to get us out of that mess, in order to get you out of yours. So, I used your little universal fake ID."

"And told everyone you were a queen?" The Doctor added.

"To get diplomatic immunity," Donna specified.

"Fair enough," realised the Time Lord, grinning at his companion's resourcefulness.

While happy, the two friends were at least amusing themselves over some of the recent events, Lloyd still felt he ought to put things into a bit more perspective.

"My family are gonna go hungry, if I don't get more hours in at the prison soon. If I haven't lost my job, that is." The man looked sullen and angry at himself.  
>The Doctor was sympathetic to the man who had helped his friend when she had needed it most and wanted to show that his gratitude.<p>

"I am sure I can do something for you. After you've been there for Donna, when I haven't, it's the least I could do," offered The Doctor.

"It isn't necessary," Lloyd didn't want his friends to feel any sort of obligation, because of his own negligence.

"It's okay, really. I would like to." Lloyd smiled at the kindness of his new friends. "First though, I need to get out of here. Really hate hospitals."

Already, The Doctor had tugged on his shirt and was working on the trousers, beneath the bed sheet. They had put him in one of those awful gowns that paid a little too much attention to the behind. He had been quick to remove that.  
>"I don't belong here and my presence could disrupt the natural progression of this planet's scientific knowledge. I need any record of my stay here destroyed, before we leave. If I can get to lab, a little work with this baby should do the trick." He flipped the screwdriver around his hand, seemingly very pleased in having it returned to him. "Oh! And if they have a little shop, we should pop in there on the way out."<p>

"He loves a little shop," Donna explained to Lloyd, as she offered a hand, helping The Doctor out of bed. She was happy her Spaceman had found his mouth again. It was good to hear him babbling away like old times. This time around though, he had better have learnt when to keep it shut! He still seemed a bit unsteady and Lloyd linked around his other arm.

"Who doesn't?" Lloyd commented. He had only known The Doctor properly and lucid, not long at all, since he had woken from the coma. Already, he was enjoying his quirky nature and could sense the strong dynamic between him and Donna. He hoped his two news friends would stick around for a while longer.

All three of them made their way out of the unit. Supported, between both Lloyd and Donna, The Doctor was the most eager to get going. He had places to go, things to do and people to see.


	29. Getting Out

"What is he doing out of bed?" They didn't get far before a frustrated looking orderly had intercepted them.

"I need to visit your labs," The Doctor stated, with urgency. He could not let information of his biology leak throughout this place. Already he had disrupted the Time Lines by bringing that insect with him to this planet's future.

"That's out of the question. You need to get back to bed," She eyed up his lean frame, adding "And at least eat something. It will take a while before you've got your strength back." She went to usher them back to his room.

The Doctor broke away from his friends' hold, as if to prove he was okay to be up.

"I'm not staying here a minute longer than I have to, go that?" He pushed forward, but halted to lean against the wall, breathing heavily and watching the floor. Clenching his fists tightly, he seemed to steel himself and asked, "Now which way is the lab?"

The orderly just shook their head at him.

"Look, I think it would be wiser to just let him get on with what he wants to do. Then he's more likely to take a rest." Donna recommended. She could tell The Doctor should probably still be resting, but she also knew he would not get much resting done until he had made sure the integrity of his private information was intact.

The guilt for having him put in a hospital where he was left defenceless to these people was beginning to chew at her. The clear holes that riddled their security lead him to get in very real danger with that mad scientist. She understood why he was so guarded when it came to his body and not wanting to seek medical help when he needed it. The sooner he got out of here, the sooner he could relax properly. The last thing he needed right now was to be getting himself wound up, on top of anything else he was already being put through.

Assuming it best to head the queen's advice, the orderly crumbled. "I can escort you there, but I cannot guarantee he will be allowed near any of the equipment."

"I'll deal with that when we get there then," The Doctor seemed in an awful hurry. Though he moved slowly and the walk seemed to exert him. Only in his trousers and shirt sleeves, the sweat patches were fairly obvious, paired with his ragged breaths, as they strolled. Donna made sure to take his arm again, should he go down.

"Here is our lab." They stopped outside a door with a sign that read in clear letters, '**Authorised Access Only**'The Doctor ignored this, barrelling through with a whirr of his sonic screwdriver. Immediately they were met with the judging faces of several lab technicians and scientists.

"Should you be in here?" One of them spoke, with the air of authority

"Right, Donna?" The Doctor fumbled. "You got my wallet of mine?"

"Erm, yeah. Hang on." Donna reached into her pocket. Whipping out the psychic paper, she showed it to the scientists who were milling about. It proved to be the only authorisation they needed to have full reign of the labs.

Donna took a seat next to the Doctor, regarding him as he got to work. Already, he was tapping away at a computer, with his black rimmed glasses on. In a moment, he had brought up his medical report. His screwdriver was at the ready, to delete everything on file, but he did not do so straight away. Expression neutral, he scrolled through the information at lightning speed, taking in every detail.

"Is there anything you want to talk about, Spaceman?" Donna tested, when The Doctor still did not speak a word. He merely fiddled around with his screwdriver, seemingly adjusting the setting further.

"Lloyd?" The Doctor turned to their guard friend and pointed. "That side of the lab, you'll find all the bio samples for this floor. I need you to find every last one, labelled 'J Smith' and bring them to me?"

Lloyd nodded and passed by the staff, following the Time Lord's instruction.

Donna was itching to have a go at The Doctor for blatantly ignoring her. But knew he was probably still processing the information, not sure what to do with it himself. Letting him stew on it for too long was a bad idea though. He might not remember being kidnapped and experimented on between everything else that had gone wrong with him recently, but there was no doubt he knew it had happened now. She would confront him with it when she had to.

After using the sonic to remove all data regarding to his stay, including security footage and the footage taken in the operating theatre, The Doctor pulled up another file, with information on the Sephtinite. He read that too and deleted it. He had whirred through everything that happened the past few days, in six minutes flat. He had even sped up the tape to the point where Donna could barely make out what he had been watching, but she recognised the figure of The Doctor, being brought in to medical centre, under surgical light and stumbling about hallways in his pants. It brought an array of emotions to the surface. Noticing his companion distress, The Doctor rubbed her back, before making his way to the back of the lab.

In one tank was the black dead body of the Sephtinite that had near taken his life. Had something so seemingly small and insignificant really almost been an end to him? Using sterile tools and the small chamber's airlock, he had the deceased specimen in a zip-lock bag. He could not allow it to be experimented on further. It could alter the Time Lines dangerously. It would have to come back with him to the TARDIS and possibly be destroyed.

Next, he came to the other tank, full of not quite fully-formed Sephtinites. There were thousands of them. They could not be allowed to live out their lives here. He heaved the tank under his arm. It was his duty as a Time Lord to make sure they got back to where they belonged.

Having placed all of The Doctor's biological samples in a box, Lloyd returned to his friends. He felt uneasy, taking the medical centre's property, as it were, right under their noses, but reminded himself that these did in a sense belong to The Doctor.

"Is that all of them?" The Doctor was anxious to remove any evidence of his stay.

"Yes," responded Lloyd.

"You sure?" the Time Lord made direct eye contact.

"Every last one," Lloyd nodded to confirm.

"Good." The Doctor beamed and put the box on top of the tank, hefting both objects under his arm. "Let's get going then."

Donna got the door, holding it open, as The Doctor had his hands full and Lloyd followed on behind, watching the precariously balanced Time Lord with his gear.

"Okay, let me take them," Lloyd insisted more than offered. The Doctor had been struggling to carry the items as it was, when he stumbled, very nearly dropping everything.

"Right, yes," The Doctor gasped out. He looked shocked and alarmed at what he had almost done. Allowing the contents of his arms to be transferred into that of the strong guard, The Doctor reached up to rub the back of his neck.

If he had dropped those, the tank could have cracked open, releasing thousands of Sephtinite spawn into a time where they should be extinct. It would upset the ecological nature of the planet, let alone the fragility of the Time Lines.

This was a hospital and it would not do, to have several of his biological samples broken and contaminating the place, with traces of viral infection and especially not leaving elements of his DNA around, that could cannibalised. The Time Lord body is a miracle and as the last Time Lord, he held all the responsibility in preserving this last body, which right now seemed to be failing him.

"Doctor, do you want to get checked out? You don't seem quite right, do you?" It was unusual to see the normally agile Time Lord so uncoordinated like this. If they were to leave the hospital, she was going to make sure he was not about to flake out on them first.

"No, no, no," The Doctor spilled out, attempting to control the rhythm of his rapidly contracting chest. "Nope," he popped his 'p', as if to prove his point further. "I'm fine. I just need to get back to the TARDIS."

"If you're sure?" Donna looked at him, hesitant.

"Yes, I'll take all my bio samples back to my own lab and test them myself. More importantly, I need to get these insects back to the Time they belong in. We have to get to the TARDIS."

"Okay," Donna nodded her understanding. He wanted to be back to his home and back in control. "Please, could you get us some transport?" She asked of Lloyd. "I'm not having him walk there."

The Doctor flashed a sheepish grin. Although he did not admit his own doubts he would be able to make the journey at the moment, he did not argue the decision either. Donna believed that gave her reason to worry.

A call into Lloyd's personal comm, soon had a taxi of sorts waiting for them, beyond the medical centre's entrance. They were about to leave, when the Time Lord eyed the medical centre's shop.

"Wait!" he yelled, hurrying inside and startling the shop assistant, with his sudden manic nature. "Have you got shoes?"

"We do. What in particular are you after?"

In a city that thrived on retail, this hospital's 'little shop', was not all that little. It was more of a department store than anything else, with an entire section for footwear.

"I need sizes!" The Doctor was frantic and grabbed at Lloyd. He pointed at a wall lined with a range of d Chuck Taylor looking shoes, made in different variations depending on what species they were for and how many feet they had. "I am going to get some of these for you and your family - as thanks, for looking after Donna and I. I just need to know what sizes to get?"

"That's incredibly thoughtful of you, Doctor." Lloyd thanked the kind alien and assisted in picking out the right pairs. Several colour decisions and purchases later, they exited the store, bags in tow.

"Of course, they're not real All Stars." The Doctor had pulled one of the shoes out from its box, turning it around in his hand. "This planet is in a far off system from Earth and probably won't have any ties with them for several hundred years. They really should have Converse here." He looked glum at this, disappointed he could not fully share his footwear with this world, but then his eyes flashed bright again with an idea.  
>"Tell you what? I'll give your family the means to start up their production here. Just buying you shoes isn't going to solve all your problems. Give a man a fish and he can eat for a day. Teach a man to fish and you give him the means to feed himself and his family for a lifetime. You won't have to work as guard if you're selling the things. Everyone will want some. You and your family won't have to go hungry."<p>

Practically beaming with pride, The Doctor's expression changed drastically. As they were just about to walk out the doors, the party were again met by hospital staff, who were none too pleased to see The Doctor leaving.

"Uh, John Smith has not been given a medical permission to leave," an orderly tried to make them stay.

"By Royal Order, he is to be discharged and we get to take all this stuff with us." Donna held up the psychic paper for good measure and gestured to what they had salvaged from the lab.

"Very well, Your Majesty," The orderlies received the message. "But we need to know, will his care be continued? We can send someone out to him to assist, wherever he will be staying."

"Yeah," The Doctor started. "I don't think that's going to be necessary." He turned away, stalking off, put out that anyone was trying to tell him what to do again.

"Thank you for the offer," Donna obliged, but turned and followed her Spaceman, with the guard at her heels.

"Law enforcement will need to talk to him still, for their investigation." The medic called out, down the corridor.

Lloyd's interest perked at that. And he looked back. The staff all bore telling expressions. The situation was out of their hands, but there would be consequences. Authority had not finished its role in this. That damn scientist was still out there. He wanted the vile woman to pay for her crimes.

Legal matters would have to wait. They kept on walking. Right now the trio just focused on getting to that mad ship of The Doctor's. It had a medical room and supposedly a lab. When Lloyd made sure his friends had piled themselves and their luggage into the back of a public transport car, Lloyd got up front and offered directions to the driver.

When he checked to the backseat, he saw that Donna was easing The Doctor over to lean on her shoulder, instead of letting his head repeatedly knock against the glass of the window, from the vibrations of the hover taxi, as they travelled. The shopping excursion seemed to have put a burst of energy back into him, but now he was suffering and was drained once more. Lloyd did not believe there was anything seriously wrong. The guy had come close to death and now he was clearly going to suffer some after-effects until he was recovered.

An upbeat song was playing through the radio. Although it was just on quiet it added a different element to the mood of the cabin, which was pretty subdued. The song was interrupted by a news update,

"_Indigifall Six's leading scientist, Professor Mae Moore has been taken into custody."_

The passenger's eyes widened and Lloyd reached across to the driver's controls, in order to raise the volume of the broadcast.

"_..Wanted for crimes of illegal experimentation on kidnapped patient, John Smith, law enforcement report they have apprehended the scientist, who awaits further conviction.."_

Just as the news update ended, their vehicle came to a stop outside the blue wooden box. Lloyd managed to scrape enough credit from what he had left to pay the driver and collected up everything they had brought with them, while Donna gently got The Doctor to climb out of the car and get inside the TARDIS. They would do what had to be done, before the guy simply collapsed.


	30. Going Home

"Alright?" Donna checked with The Doctor, as he pushed away from the vehicle, eager to reach his beloved ship. He seemed a little unsteady. She worried that maybe they had left the hospital too soon.

Sure, she was glad to be out of the place, but they had saved The Doctor's life several times over now. And she would be eternally grateful to the sometimes-irresponsible medics. Presuming he was okay now that there was no parasite inside him, the infection had vanished and his injuries had healed. Why then, did he still appear weak and fragile, like a breeze could knock him for six?

The flood of relief came wrapped around her like a warm blanket upon getting inside the TARDIS. The Doctor had gone right up to the console, just resting his hand there. The great Time Ship was just as glad to have her pilot back, as he was to be back, it seemed.

Donna could tell the old girl was thanking her, in her mind. She closed her eyes and tried to think really hard, '_it's okay'_ and '_anything for The Doctor,' _sending good feelings back to the TARDIS, but she was not entirely sure it worked that way.

It felt silly and the embarrassment came back to her of landing on the Ood Sphere and finding that poor dying Ood in the snow. The Doctor, with his stethoscope was trying to find its heart, all the while telling Donna to talk to the creature and keep him going. She had picked up its Persil ball thing and spoke into it. Of course The Doctor had cajoled her for doing so. It was her first time on a different planet. How was she supposed to know, that is not how communicating with aliens worked? Things like that bugged her about The Doctor. He just expected people to know things, forgetting they are not quite as well-travelled and experienced as he is.

The atmosphere was almost awkward, as Donna and Lloyd stood there, waiting for The Doctor to do something. In silence, the Time Lord still had his hand on the console. His eyes closed, it seemed like they were perhaps intruding on a private moment.

"Uh, where should I put these?" Lloyd whispered to Donna, holding out the samples and specimens. She pointed out for him to leave them on the jump seat for now. The Doctor could decide what he wanted to do with them later.

The weight of the tank caused the cushion seat to bob, as the guard dropped it down. The TARDIS rattled and hummed, as if upset by having to contain the same creatures that had caused devastation to her Time Lord.

"Easy there, girl," The Doctor stroked the TARDIS. "We're going to take them back where they belong."

"Not right now though, right?" Donna checked.

"Um, I thought so?"

"We've got Lloyd with us still," Donna reminded.

"Oh yeah," The Doctor looked at the prison guard standing in his TARDIS.  
>How could he have gotten so wrapped up in his re-connection with the TARDIS that he had forgotten Lloyd was there? It was not like him for things to slip like that. Putting it down to the over-eager TARDIS overwhelming him with their re-connection, in his exhausted state. He hoped that the loss of energy had not affected the telepathic centre of his brain. Though, it seemed intact, he certainly felt a bit off. He had had a seizure too, according to his medical file and he had not long come out of an excessive healing coma. He was drained to say the least. The TARDIS gave him comfort as it enveloped him, glad to have him back.<p>

'_I'm glad to be back, Sexy'_

"What now then?" Donna put forward.

"I'm just going to check something in the med lab."

"Right, go ahead," Donna nodded to him. "Do you need help with anything?"

"I don't think so, Donna," he declined and strolled down the corridor, leaving Lloyd and Donna to chat amongst each other.

Moving, he felt a bit stiff, especially around his shoulder, which had apparently been dislocated in his tumble down a hospital staircase. He would re-check the ligaments, to ensure everything had healed correctly. He did not want to have a buggered shoulder for the rest of this regeneration.

His head ached, but at least that had eased slightly upon returning to the TARDIS. She was always so helpful in easing his pain. He savoured their connection. Sometimes she seemed the only thing he had left to cling onto in this world and that truly understood him.

Downloading the information from his screwdriver, he updated his own files and got the TARDIS to run a full-body scan of himself. Everything seemed fine enough. Stiffness, proved to be just stiffness. He had spent far more time laid up in bed than was normal for him. Everything was functioning normal enough. Why then, did worry still clench his double-hearts?

He picked up a scalpel. For a moment, he was back on the floor, bloody-gloved hand inside himself, reaching for a life-sucking parasite, riddled with pain. But then, like a flash, it was gone. He was okay. He was standing here, by himself, in front of his scanner equipment - feeling a bit dizzy, if anything. He thought he might sit down. Sitting down was a good idea. He might be able to breathe easier then. And perhaps the walls would stop moving. Sitting, leant against a scanner, he thought he might close his eyes for a second.

It was strange however, that when he opened them again, a concerned looking Donna was leaning over him.

"Alright, Spaceman? What are you doing on the floor?"

"Tired," The Time Lord was quick to supply. He still had the scalpel in his grip. Carefully, he used it to cut the other arm.

"What are you doing?" Donna was shocked at his action.

"Just checking," he explained and watched the red mark eventually vanish and close via a faint mist of energy.

"Lloyd thought you might need your samples," Donna interrupted the slightly fascinating process.

"You're looking pale there, Doctor?" Lloyd also came into view next to them. Indeed, he had the Sephtinite tank and bunch of his samples.

"Oh?"

"Should you still be in bed?" Donna's tone was serious.

"Maybe," The Doctor admitted. Pushing against the wall, he got up. Taking the specimens from Lloyd, he placed them on his work bench. Pulling a microscope over, he picked out a bio sample, meaning to inspect it.

"Look, I think you're due some more rest, Spaceman. Lloyd's made us an offer."

Lloyd placed a hand on The Doctor's shoulder.

"You're welcome to come to my home, Doctor. In fact, I insist. I think it best you should get some more rest and perhaps a good feed. Come back with me? My family and I will take care of you."

"I might take you up on that." The Doctor nodded and, actually stepped back from the work he was doing. "Anyway, we have to discuss plans for this shoe enterprise," the Time Lord shot a wink at the guard. "Just let me set this up."  
>Turning back to the bench, he hooked the tank up to the TARDIS main-frame to be monitored, with an automatic feeding system. "They'll be taken care of until I get back." He put the dead mother Sephtinite into a small draw with a freezing chamber.<p>

Donna wrinkled her nose at the parasitic bugs. She could not begin to sympathize with the creatures, but at least they did not have to worry about them for a while. They could focus on taking care of The Doctor. He had been through quite the physical ordeal any ideas of responsibility or further travel could definitely wait in favour of some much deserved recuperation.

After double-checking his equipment again, The Doctor reluctantly left the salvaged specimens to the care of his TARDIS's med lab, in exchange for Lloyd's generous hospitality, a comfortable bed and hopefully, a hot cup of tannin-enriched tea.


	31. Detour

**[A/N: My creative juices are flowing again, hooray!]**

En route to the console room, Lloyd asked,

"Do you mind, if we stop by the prison station? I need to get a few things."

"I'll take us there." The Doctor did not mind and could hardly deny the request after all the help the guy had been to them so far. Despite the fatigue so far presented, the Time Lord seemed to get a second wind and a bounce in his step, as he made is way up the ramp and to the console of his beloved ship. The controls felt good in his hands. It seemed like all too long since he had piloted, though he realised that in actual time it was only a couple of days.

Donna had to hold herself back, when the Doctor insisted on piloting, so eagerly. It was good to see him with a bit more bubble back, for the time being. But she remained wary of the fact; the Time Lord did not appear to be in peak condition. Despite, having supposedly healing his physical injuries, he appeared frail and he still seemed to sweating a lot.

"Maybe, we should just get another taxi?" Donna threw out there, as the co-ordinates were being set. She raised her eyebrows at the Doctor. "The last thing we need right now, is to end up anywhere else." However, the attempt to make a quip at his poor piloting skills failed a bit, as her concern burned through, more than anything.

"Nonsense!" he proclaimed. "That'd be a waste of time, when I can get us there, in just a jiffy." With that he slammed down a lever and the TARDIS was rocking about with stomach swirling intensity. Lloyd's grey complexion actually became tinged with green, while Donna just stared, as the Doctor whooped in delight, at the motions of his ship. Not clenching to the railing, as his companions had taken to doing, so much as swinging off them in order to propel himself back and forth from button to dial, only causing more chaos, as the room's lighting went haywire. Before the ship had even shaken to a complete stop, The Doctor was out the door, hardly seeming to notice the way the time rotor was currently smoking.

In a flash, Donna was after him, with Lloyd not far behind.

"We're here already?" Lloyd marveled. Sure enough, they had arrived at his place of work. Though, the strange blue box was at an odd angle, half-hanging off the curb. He watched, with second-hand fear, as Donna grabbed The Doctor by the arm, in a fiery temper.

"What do you think you're doing? You need to calm right down, this instant. What has gotten into you?"

"I don't know what you mean," The Doctor was just grinning back at her, bouncing off the heels of his converse-clad feet.

"You should damn well, know what I mean. Look at the TARDIS! You've left her a wreck." She waved in indication, to the clouds of smoke billowing through her still open doors. "You're can hardly take care of her right now, let alone yourself. You've got to slow down. Lloyd is just going to pop in there, right now, get whatever it is he needs, while you have a sit down on the wall here." She pulled out the key, she'd been entrusted with. "I am going to lock the TARDIS and we are getting other means of transport to Lloyd's home, where you are going straight to having a lie down. I'm not having you all wound up at the moment. Go that?"

The last of Time Lords actually seemed to shrink a little, right where he was standing, as he was faced with the red-head's glare. He didn't dare answer back this time and actually quietly turned to sit on the mentioned wall, skirting a small garden, which sharply contrasted the cold, hard building it surrounded.

Even, as The Doctor perched himself on the little wall, it didn't escape Donna's notice how he could not seem to stop fidgeting. She supposed, it was as calm things were going to get for the time being though and had to be satisfied with that. Lloyd had taken his cue to leave, almost immediately and had jogged up the few steps to the entrance; The Doctor had somehow managed to navigate them outside of. She chuckled proudly, at her own ability to make men quiver in their boots, when she needed to.

The Doctor slightly envied Lloyd, who got to escape, near the beginning of Donna's outburst, inside the prison station. But then again, he also pitied him, as it did not look like a particular pleasing place to work.

Personally, he was never at ease when it came to places of authority. Too many times, he had found himself imprisoned, he should probably begin to consider himself comfortable surrounded by gun wielding soldiers and guards, or behind bars, for matters out of his control. His past stints at U.N.I.T were usually the closest he dabbled by choice. Too often, though, he found himself somehow wrapped up in authoritarian affairs anyway, despite trying his best to avoid confrontations with the likes of less trivial organisations, such as the Shadow Proclamation etc, unless he was especially out of his own depth.

He supposed it was slightly ironic that he traveled in a 'police box', when an authoritarian life was what he ran from, at the very beginning, when he fled Gallifrey. Still, he was the last one left and sometimes he had to wield some level of authority, against his nature to put an end to suffering. He was the Doctor after all. 'The Doctor, who travels in a police box'. He had been thoroughly stripped of any authority by the very human, currently locking up the seemingly twentieth century object.

He was grateful, for Donna though. She took some of the burden from his shoulders and offered a gentle hand to hold when things got tough, yet was never afraid to put him in his place. Which right now, was this low little, cold, gravelly wall, that was digging into his backside, Donna always complained he lacked. He shifted about, trying to get comfortable. That was when two pairs of strong hands grasped each of his unsuspecting shoulders, pulling him up.

"You need to come with us," the familiar cold, authoritarian words rang through his ears.

Donna had been trying to calm down a little herself, braced against the now-locked TARDIS, so nobody could enter and no more fumes could escape. Sure, her friend needed tough-love, but it had it had been a hard couple of days. She needed to resume a bit of composure, if she was going to be picking up more of the Doctor's fragmenting pieces, before he shattered completely and lost it. After a few breathes, she released her grip on the wooden paneling, only to turn and see The Doctor being dragged away and out of sight.


	32. Talk and Tea

** [A/N: Still intent on sticking out with this fic until the end. Any feedback is appreciated. Thanks for keeping an interest.]**

Lloyd took haste in fetching his own belongings from his staff locker, before heading for the evidence locker. As a guard, he held a master set of keys to the entire building and was quick to retrieve the products of Donna's chaotic shopping trip days before. It was the least he could do. Bags clasped in his grey over-sized hands, he strolled back into the main hallway, only to bump into the very woman to whom the items belonged to.

"I've got all our things. We can go home now." His smile upon seeing her, quickly warped into a frown, however.

"Not just yet, we can't!" Donna informed the guard. "They've taken The Doctor again. Those officers from before, Stacey and Hanson – they're interviewing him through there."

* * *

><p>"So far, you've only described to us the immense physical pain you felt. This serves to back-up the wrong-doing of The Professor, but we're going to need some more specific evidence. It will all help us in the trial. There must be something we can do to jog your memory, surely?"<p>

The Doctor wanted to help. He did. But now really was not the best time for him. It was becoming a struggle for him, just to stay awake. Even the officers could see this. They sat at opposite The Doctor at a narrow table, in a dimly lit room. All that seemed missing was a harsh interrogative light beating down on him. But he was not the criminal here. He was the victim. They were trying to help. He was being of no help though. And he really was not feeling so good. The sweat that glistened off him could have been from nervousness. But that would have been too simple.

"It shouldn't be too much longer," they assured him. Looking to the empty mug in front of the victim, they then enquired, "Can we get you another cup of tea or something?" The Doctor steels himself and nods. His mouth felt increasingly dry and he had gulped down the previous drink offered to him.

"Yeah. Please." It took a shaking hand to pass the mug the junior female officer who had been observing from the corner of the room. She just barely caught it as it came free from such loose grip. She exited the room, leaving the three men to it, but with concern, thought she should possibly make sure there was a medic on standby.

* * *

><p>Having worked as a guard here for quite some time now, Lloyd had come to learn that many of the law enforcement guys tended to abuse their power. He was not happy that they were using The Doctor like this; after all he had been through.<p>

"Donna?"

"Yes?" Donna could see a question in Lloyd's expression.

"Did he go willingly?"

"Not exactly. I tried to stop them, but The Doctor did tell me that it was alright. It was better to get it over with and I should just wait for them to be done."

"Perhaps that is best? Then we can take him home and he can finally get the rest he needs?" Donna looked doubtful. It was unlike The Doctor to give in like this. He hated sticking around for this kind of thing. "There is something we can be doing in the meantime, anyway."

"What's that?" Donna quirked an eyebrow, to which Lloyd brandished his set of keys.

"I can open any door in this place - can unlock any cell." He winked. "We can finally have a word or two, ourselves, with Professor Moore."

* * *

><p>He knew something was off. Though, nothing had seemed untoward, when he checked himself. Then why now, was there pain lancing between his temples? He did not usually get headaches. Not since the neural implosion, upon changing into this body anyway.<p>

"Mr. Smith? John?" The officers were trying to get his attention again. He had better tell them something. He had to get away and soon.

"Look, the past few days have been a blur of wretched pain for me. I could hardly tell between who was torturing me and who was trying to make me better. That should be enough for you. I just want to go be with my friends."

"That's fine. We understand. Look, you've got another tea here."

The woman, from before, placed a fresh steaming mug in front of him. Someone else was in the room now too. They must have come in with the Tea Lady. He noticed that the officers had turned away from him, to speak with each other privately in hushed tones. He thought he heard them discuss whether they should bring in the torturer, to see if it would improve his memory. As he took a sip, they were facing him again, looking him dead in the eye, no doubt wanting to interrogate him further. Sticking his tongue out, the Doctor wiped at it, with his fingers, ignoring odd looks from everyone else in the room.

"Sorry, could I have the same tea as before?"

"Officer Donovan?" The junior officer, responsible for tea duties was addressed.

"I beg your pardon, Sir. It is the same tea?"

"Is it?" The Doctor's spoke with high-pitched curiosity. "It tastes bad though?" Officer Donovan gave him a look. "Um.. different. It tastes different."

The new person in the room placed a hand on his shoulder. "Different how, John?"

"Sort of.. I don't know.. metallic?"

"Alright, get him on the ground."

"Oh ..ow?" The mug was dropped from The Doctor's clutch, as he arched back in the chair. There was a flurry of activity, as attempts were made to make sure all furniture and broken bits of ceramic were away from contact. A bundled up coat was put under his head, as they placed him as gently as possible on the floor. It was not long before his body was thrashing.

* * *

><p>Travelling with the Doctor, Donna had been held prisoner plenty of times. She was usually to being captured and put behind bars. Hell, she had even done so, in this place. Her cell had not been like this one though. In fact, Lloyd led her down to a completely separate part of the building, than she had been held. She could already tell, with how it had to scan his eye and hand print, that it was much more maximum security. She was almost surprised that when they got to Moore's cell, that it was ordinary lock and key. Once Lloyd had the door unlocked and swung open however, she could see that, in between them and the prisoner, was a some sort of laser force field, that buzzed and sparked.<p>

"Tell me, Moore," Donna began, as The Professor gazed up. She had been stripped of her professional attire, now clad in a prison issue jumpsuit. She did not look at all pleased to be there, nor to have such visitors. "What would possess you to kidnap my friend and experiment on him, to the point of torture? To the point when, if it weren't for your assistant intervening and bringing him to the real medics, he would have died."

"It was in the name of science." She almost hissed.

"Science! Ha! You call that science? It was no more science, than it was a tea party! You blatantly tortured an innocent man. What can you possibly achieve from that that could be claimed as even remotely scientific?!"

"We gained knowledge, of his previously unheard of species, that can beneficially further the growth of the planets future development."

"What knowledge would that be then?" Lloyd wanted to know.

"His biology is like no other. I could save lives with the information I gathered."

"At what cost?" Donna demanded.

"An asteroid fell to this planet five years ago." The Professor having a point to prove, altered the conversation's direction. "My team and I went to investigate its point of contact. Do you know what we found?

"What?"

"Robotic life. Life constructed from microscopic, electronic circuitry. After studying it for some time, I realised I could cannibalise the technology. Do you know what we use it for now? Killing off infectious disease in the body, where normal anti-biotics would otherwise fail. I have heard the report. I know that your friend contracted purple eye and that this method, my very own anti-bionic creatures were used to heal John Smith. He contracted purple eye and my science saved him, when his own immunity would otherwise failed. You have me to thank for his life." She smiled.

"Only because you almost ended it for him in the first place! You stole him away from the hospital where he was supposed to be getting help! Ugh!" Donna struggled to get closer and tear the vile woman's hair out. Lloyd held her back, before she could be fried by the force field. "Let me at her!"

"Okay, Donna. I think that's enough." Lloyd stopped her. Maybe he had made a mistake, in letting her so close? "She has to be trailed yet. Everyone will see quite clearly through her words and actions. Justice will be served."

"See that it does!" Donna cried as she was pulled from the room.

* * *

><p>The Doctor came to, with a group of people standing over him. Someone was digging their fingers into his collarbone and calling to him to wake up. "Aargh.. ge'roff," he groaned. "I'm sorry, Mr. Smith but you've just had a seizure and I need to check you over."<p>

"Sei- seizure?" The Doctor checked.

"Yes Sir. Now open your eyes and look at me?" The Doctor did just that. "Good," the medic was happy John Smith was complying. After taking the pupil response, they continued to monitor the rest of his vitals. Everything seemed abnormally not right with the results, though it had been informed; John Smith was no ordinary patient. "I've been on the phone to the med center. Apparently, you left their care, without the medical clearance to do so. I've informed them of your decline. They are aware that you are a difficult patient and that you probably are not going to accept being re-admitted, but they are offering to send medical assistance to where you are staying?"

"I'm.. a doctor. I can.. take care of myself." Groaning, The Doctor sat up, intending on getting away as soon as he could possibly bring his body to do what it was told.


	33. Outskirts

**[A/N: Yes, I am actually adding another chapter, finally. Yes, there is more to come. Also, reviews are helpful.]**

Evading any other staff members in the place, The Doctor was anxious to get to his TARDIS. Something was most certainly definitely not right. If he'd really had a seizure? That was several bus rides from good. Hopefully, it was a one-off. He couldn't let himself do a thing like that again, especially with Donna. He had already put her through hell enough, as it was. She did not need to be worrying about him further.

Now, where was the way out, he had been left disorientated and couldn't quite remember the way he had initially came. Taking a chance, he tried a door, but it opened up to a surveillance room, the walls lined with screens showing different parts of the building. Maybe he could find the way out here? Finding it hard to focus, with his vision graying at the edges, he pulled his glasses from his jacket pocket. Once he was wearing them, things became slightly clearer and he focused in on one of the screens. It displayed a cell. There was a woman sitting there. He knew that woman – that face. He felt his hearts stutter and he staggered back against the wall, as an image flashed through his head and he felt the pain lance through his body. A strangulated cry escaped his throat.

* * *

><p>"He's in here!" A guard called. "What are you doing on the floor there, lad? I am supposed to be escorting you from the building and you go swanning off."<p>

The Doctor allowed the stranger to help him to his feet. He felt shaken and remained quiet, until he was at the exit, seeing the TARDIS parked in the distance, he found his voice again.

"Right, thanks. I can make my own way from here."

* * *

><p>Lloyd and Donna were waiting by the TARDIS, when they saw The Doctor again. He was moving sluggishly, his features pale and drawn. Immediately, Donna pulled the skinny bloke him into a tight hug. After, initially stiffening at the contact, the Time Lord allowed himself to melt into his ginger companions arms.<p>

"Right, let's get out of here. Next train leaves for the outskirts in ten minutes." Lloyd announced.

* * *

><p>The Doctor was practically falling asleep the whole train ride. Gently, she moved him, so he was leaning against her and not the uncomfortable window. He barely stirred. Spaceman was exhausted, to say the least.<p>

"Here's our stop." Lloyd indicated, to the upcoming station.

Managing to wake The Doctor enough to get him on his feet and walk with them, Donna still clung tightly to his arm, ensuring he remained with them.

It had not escaped her notice, during the train ride, how drastically the environment, outside the carriages changed, the further they got from the city. And now, having arrived at the 'Outskirts', she saw how very rough things were, on this planet. They had come to a sort of slums. The buildings were run down and tagged with graffiti. The place smelt and there was nothing growing. There were people seemingly using the station as a place to sleep, when it didn't look as though they had a proper home to go to.

"My place isn't far from here. He's alright to walk a bit further, yeah?" Lloyd indicated to the barely standing Doctor.

"Spaceman? We're nearly there. Just a bit further and then you can lay down for a kip?"

"Hmm, yeah," was all they got from him in reply, so they pressed on.

Lloyd led them up a side street, round the corner from the station, where they then had to climb up several staircases to get to his flat. The lift had been out of order, quite some time. The jingling of keys and creak of a door opening, was quickly followed by the shrill cry of;

"Daddy!"

Four children had raced to the door, to greet their father.

"Hi kids," Lloyd chuckled. "They're always like this whenever I get home," he then explained to his guests.

"Lloyd," sighed the blue-haired, grey-skinned man who came to the door.

"Hi, love," Lloyd pulled his husband in for a kiss. "I see Kyro is feeling better." He motioned to his youngest, now running circles around him.

"Yeah, his fever broke not long after your call. He's right as rain now."

"This fine lady here is Donna Noble and this is her good friend, The Doctor. He's still not well and they need a place to stay until he's feeling better."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Clarke. This here is Kyro," lifting the small child onto his hip, he then gestured to the other three children. "These are our twins, Marle and Zhee. And our eldest, Grift."

"Pleasure to meet you," Donna smiled at four grey complexioned children. They all looked equally nervous, but happy to have visitors.

"Hello," The Doctor nodded, but the movement seemed to leave him reeling from dizziness. He had already been swaying enough, where he stood.

"Come have a lie down here, Doctor," Clarke offered the couch in their front room, helping to guide the Time Lord onto it.

"Grift? Why don't you fix your Daddy and his guests some broth?" Clarke, asked the tallest of their kids, who raced to the kitchenette, eager to help. "Come, sit, Donna." Clarke gestured to a few extra seats next to the couch, where the Doctor now lay. "You must be tired too."

"You bet I am," Donna admitted and sat with Clarke.

Meanwhile, Lloyd had placed their things down in the centre of the floor. Kyro, Marle and Zhee were marveling at the shopping, who had never seen so many new things all it once, in all their lives. Their curiosity had quickly got the better of them, as they pulled out each item to play with. Donna allowed the twins to try on her newly bought clothes, which were much too big for them, but adorable looking on them, nonetheless. Kyro, however, was content to play with one of the bags.

"Shoes?" The Doctor spoke up, having watched the scene play out. Lloyd opened another bag, containing his family's new footwear, and helped fit them onto his family's feet. The children were delighted and were soon stomping around the room, chasing each other.

"Thank you, Doctor!" they chimed together, when their fathers reminded them to use their manners, and each child took turns to plant a wet kiss on The Doctor's cheek.

Lloyd went to have a shower and by time he had returned, the broth was ready. Grift carried each bowl over in her little hands, careful not to spill any. Donna helped The Doctor to sit up, in his fatigued state. He hungrily drank a small amount, before admitting he couldn't eat any more. They let him get some rest and soon he was snoring. The TV was then switched on for a while, to keep the children quiet and entertained, while the adults continued to chat among themselves and the ordeal they had been through.


End file.
